I remember at 29

I remember at 29 wondering if quitting one thing would mean I’d always quit when things weren’t so much fun any more. I loved my job. Well, 90% of it anyway. I loved the students. I loved the teachers I taught with. I loved the administration at my school. But the district/state was really making me miserable. And I could feel it was time to move on.

Yet at the same time I worried that quitting a job when I didn’t like it any more meant I’d quit other things, like perhaps a marriage (hey! nobody ever said my fears were rational!), when they stopped being enjoyable as well.

Thinking about my dad calmed me down. We moved twice while I was growing up because my dad had changed jobs. My parents have moved a few times since I left home because of employment. He was doing what was best for him and for our family.

Quitting one thing does not make you a quitter for life (I really hate that saying I’ve decided).

Less than a month after my Masters diploma arrived in the mail I was unpacking in Arizona and starting my PhD (so much for a break between the two). My career track was taking a different fork in the road.

I’d left my job in the middle of the year. Which logically is crazy. But in hindsight, if I’d done the logical thing so many other things most likely wouldn’t have fallen in to place. I moved against the wishes of Brett. He was quite against my moving. But who was he to tell me what to do?

Considering how many things I didn’t have planned at the time, it’s amazing how well it’s all worked out.

Plus, that’s three four-corner states down as a place of residence, one more to go.