"The waiting is the hardest part."
Sigh. I'm not a patient waiter. Who is, really? I'm--we're--waiting to hear back about Beast's graduate school application. His top pick is a school in California. California. As in, sunny and warm and more laidback. California, as in, the complete oppposite side of the country, one of the few states I have never visited and one of the states I'm constantly told I "belong" in (although Momma Val disagrees and thinks I'm more of a Washington or Idaho girl). Perhaps most importantly, California is where I do not have a job.
My feelings are mixed. On one hand, I'm not a huge Boston fan. I don't know, it could be something about the lack of community and abundance of selfish, cold, self-involved people combined with sky-high rental rates and bone-chilling, wet winters. I don't want Bean growing up to invest so little in others, which is the example set by the majority of folks around here. California has year-round farmers markets, great weather, an ocean you can actually swim in, a more progressive community. California is an unknown that I can discover and relish in. Beast would love grad school.
On the other hand, I have a job at a nonprofit with great benefits here that I can work from home for half the week. This isn't exactly the best time to go job hunting. I'm tired of Beast being in school. We have been together for nearly a decade, and for nearly a decade minus one year, one or the other of us has been in school. It would be nice to actually see each other instead of do homework a few nights a week. California is expensive, just as much if not moreso than Boston. Having been here two years now, I feel like we're just getting settled. I'm tired of moving. I've moved more than a dozen times in the last decade. Moving means I'd have to pack again. I hate packing. Don't they have earthquakes and mountain lions in California?
So, I wait.
"They say fate, it takes time. I walk a thin line."
My Relationship With Food
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