This past week, I moved for the job I accepted. Moving day, like all moving days, was long and exhausting. But the guys who handled my move did a good job and were easy to work with. I've rented a house just minutes from where I'll be working. The house is wonderful - I love it and I'm really comfortable in it. It was built in 1948 and is in a quaint older neighborhood of the city. It's a 2-3 bedroom, 1 bath with hardwood floors and updated kitchen. It has a lot of character including an alcove off the living room with lots of built in shelves. Finally, a place for all my books. It also has a great fireplace. The house is really cute and I genuinely like it.
I've spent days unpacking and I will be unpacking and getting settled for weeks to come. I start my new job on Monday. I'm nervous about it, mainly because it's not like anything I've done before. I'll be working for an art museum and my background is in history. But I'm hoping it will be challenging and fun. I have no idea what to expect, though.
It's less painful in some ways to be here. I'm not surrounded with places and memories from the past. Whatever life I have here will be my own and that's a relief on some level. Having said all of this, it's weird being in a new place alone. I'm going to miss my friends and the surety of familiarity. Mixed emotions....
In a few weeks, I start my second class for my graduate certification work. In the meantime, I'm trying to decide what interests I want to pursue outside of work.
I don't care how often I've moved or how old I am, change will never be easy for me. I know I have a period of adaptation ahead.
