Three things. Well, two things, and a story.

First. Thank you so much for all your thoughts and insight on my job situation. You guys will probably not be disappointed to find out that my final decision was to go with Opportunity #1. After I read your comments, I talked it over with the beau. "It's a no-brainer that you should go with the first option for your career advancement," he told me. "But what about our future?" I asked. "Your career advancement is our future," he replied sagely.

That's when I collapsed on the floor and melted into the carpet. It's official. He wins the "Best Husband I've Ever Had" award. I don't just give those out to anyone, you know.

I'm kind of nervous. True, I'll be making more money per hour at this new job, but I'll be working fewer hours. The best I'm hoping for is that it evens out to what I'm making now, or slightly less. And it's true that I can take on side jobs to help split the difference. Either that or I can simply take any hours I am not working each week and devote them to learning and training, which is kind of like paying myself with knowledge instead of cash. I think I'm going to just have figure it out as I go.

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Yesterday the link to this site was getting passed around the intertubes like some kind of virtual venereal disease. I succumbed. I clicked on the link and read back a few pages. Then I closed the tab window and forgot.

Well, mostly forgot. One day later, I am turning this over and over in my mind:

YOUR JOB I know I’m ‘the free spirited one’, but you’re not allowed to be doing something that makes you miserable. Sorry. We’ll fucking live in a box, it’s fine.

The beau came home from work last night as per usual. And as per usual, I asked him how his day had been. "A resident told me I was soulless," he said flatly, by way of reply.

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We were honeymooning on Vancouver Island.

On the drive from Ucluelet to the ferry terminal in Nanaimo, the car fell silent. “What are you thinking about right this second?” I inquired of the beau. “That sign,” he said, gesturing to a black and yellow checkered road sign that warned of an approaching curve.¹ “And driving.” A few moments passed. “What are you thinking about?” he asked me. “Narcolepsy,” I replied. “Like, can it happen at any time? Can you be running and all of a sudden, bam, you’re laid out on the pavement in a dead sleep?”²

Other things. Now that we don’t have a wedding to plan anymore, we think and talk about other things. Turns out that other things are like riding a bike: you may feel a bit rusty when you get back on, and those muscles may ache from disuse. But you never forget.

The beau and I spent a lot of time on our honeymoon talking about other things, and about The Future. The Future is something we’d talked about before, obviously, but during the whirlwind months of wedding planning we’d apparently lost sight of it. We were on a deadline, see. We were working towards something very specific. Then that thing was over, and we were suddenly like: okay, what now?

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