Countdown

Well…I have twelve days left here. Twelve days to make sure that my projects are wrapped up and passed on in a responsible manner so that I’m not leaving anyone in a lurch. I’ve been here for 1,033 days (give or take a few), and now I have twelve left.

That’s just so weird.

I’ve been feeling a change coming on for a while now, and I do feel like this is a direction that makes sense for me (even though it means I have to commute to Virginia every day…bleah). I’m very contradictory in that I crave change on a regular basis, but it also makes me nervous. Maybe it’s that adrenaline rush that I identify as “nerves” that I crave – who knows? It’s debatable as to whether or not bungee jumping might be a simpler way to get that adrenaline rush than changing jobs. (Simpler? Yes – there are no tax forms to fill out, most likely just a simple liability waiver. Definitely in bungee jumping’s favor. Safer? Well – that’s definitely debatable. Lasting consequences? Could happen with either one, to be honest.) There are many people who have suggested that K and I look into moving to Virginia, since we’ll both be working there. As someone who was raised in Maryland, my knee-jerk response to that is hell, no. While I won’t rule it out 100% since the commute does increase our environmental footprint and expenses, which I don’t take lightly, I’d have to say that the odds are very, very slim that we’ll give that option serious consideration.

Unless, of course, our landlords decide to jack up our rent this year, in which case we really need to look at all of our options, I suppose.

I’m really excited to be taking a week off in between jobs, but knowing me I’ll probably schedule stuff for every day that week. Although, as long as I get to sleep in every day and go swimming a few times, I think I’m fine with that.

I think that I’m displaying one of many signs of getting a little older – I am really looking forward to warmer weather. Not so I can hit the beach with friends (although that could be fun), not so I can sit on the roof deck of Lauriol Plaza sipping margaritas (it’s overrated anyway), but I’m looking forward to warmer weather so I can get a garden started again.

*sigh*

The C’s have been talking to Special K and I about chucking all this big city (or big suburb) life and going to run a vineyard/B&B somewhere. I have to admit, there’s something very appealing about the thought of it, although I know I have an overly romanticized version of what it would be like in my head. (As does K, since he keeps talking about being the vineyard’s “quality control officer”. He also wants to brew beer and be the quality control officer for that. I’ve told him that he’s reaching.) But the one thing that I keep insisting on, although no one is arguing with me about it, so “insisting” may be a misleading term, is a large greenhouse and garden so that we can grow stuff to eat. And much as that would be a lot of fun, and would really play to Mrs. C’s and my strengths in many ways, I still want the garden and the greenhouse even if the B&B never materializes.

But as long as I can just keep those farking raccoons off my tomatoes this year, I’ll consider that to be progress.