It's been very windy here on the Western Slope of Colorado lately. It seems appropriate.
After talking with my family, I decided to see what would possibly be available to me in Virginia. A few feelers wouldn't hurt, and those things take forever to pan out (and often don't), anyhow.
I looked. And waited. And looked some more. And waited.
The phone rang twice.
The first time, the people turned out to be so unprofessional that I wouldn't work with them, in any case. Rude people are not who I want to spend all day, every day, working with. Life is too short for that.
The second time, though. Now, that was golden.
And quick. I was out there interviewing so fast that I didn't know what hit me. I showed them what I can do. I kicked ass. They said they'd make a decision in a week or so. "We hope you like us as much as we like you," they said.
By the time a week had passed, I'd already accepted the job and put in my notice at work (which has caused general panic and mayhem).
And they want me there soon. Very soon.
So Blogget and her pups and her family are trucking it to Virginia.
This brings particular challenges. Like, I can't drive. We don't have a place to live yet. I'll be there on my own for a couple of weeks, at least, before anyone else gets there. How do I get the dogs there? And Daughter's car? When are the moving trucks coming and where are they going? And where is the money coming from?
Can I fast forward until this part is all done?
I'm both frightened and excited about the new adventure. I've never lived by the coast before. I've not lived in a large city. I haven't lived in the East!
Buckle up, dear Diary. We're in for quite a ride for the next few weeks.