Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Life on my own #23: Changes

There’s a song about changes, I know. I just can’t pull the lyrics out of my muddled subconscious. Or maybe it’s just one of those things that there should be an ultimate song about, but I haven’t heard exactly what I’m looking for yet.

Change is a little scary. It’s like every kid knows—you undergo some change, it’s like starting all over from square one. Or falling down the chute in Chutes and Ladders and landing behind all your game opponents. I didn’t play that game much, but I wrote a scholarly essay related to it for a lit class one time. It’s much easier to do the same old thing you’ve been doing for weeks or months or years than to change it.

Take jobs, for instance. It’s scary now to think of switching jobs, especially when the one you’ve got is pretty decent and not particularly unstable (at least not in the immediate future). So when is it worth it?

Apparently, it’s worth it when I get to move from one Midwest town to another that’s nearer my cousins, possessed of a daily newspaper and occupied by a good many Hispanic folks.

I got a new job.

And I’ve been at my current one only… *counts on fingers*… nine months!

It was a quick decision—there weren’t even three weeks between submitting the application and getting the call that I’d gotten the job—but not lightly made. It means I’ll have to find another church, a new apartment, more friends and more business contacts. AAAAH!

I’ll miss my little town here very much. I’ve just begun to feel like I almost belong. I know exactly who I need to talk to for most stories I cover, and several folks are beginning to keep me in the loop about upcoming stories. I’ve felt part of the church family almost since the first day I visited, too—moreso than any other church I’ve attended. How do you leave that?

It comes with the territory. Single, carefree young journalist not even a year out of college. (And on a month-to-month rental lease.) I figured I’d move on sometime, though I wasn’t figuring on doing so quite this soon.

But it’s cool. I figure, if I don’t have the guts to make a good change like this—where I’ll still be very near family, and have already found a likely church—how will I ever get back to Costa Rica?

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