I may be on the verge of yet another change. Change is good. I've always thrived on change. I know some people, apparently happy people at that, who have had the same job and lived in the same place for as long as they can remember. That would feel like a little death to me... but maybe I'm changing myself, growing older.
I love where I live. I've always loved where I lived until it was time to move on, time to change. But the way I feel here is different. I think I may just stay here. I think I can see myself old here.
Hence change. I've spent the last few days grappling with the idea of changing my profession. I must say that this was never an issue at all for me in the past. I've had so many different jobs throughout my life that I can't even begin to list them. When I began translating I fell in love with the fact that I could stay at home doing it. I could manage my time and energy as I saw fit. I could be my own boss. Translating is also mentally exhausting. My hands hurt. My back hurts. My eyes burn. The bulk of my clients are in Italy, which means that I must be up and working, coherent, by 6am. I must often work by Italian standards, meaning that payment terms are usually never ending... or even ignored. I am always working against a deadline, something I truly despise.
So I'm thinking of change. In Italy it never would have occurred to me to consider something else, where jobs are scarce, and salaries are peanuts. But here the classified section of the paper overflows with things I could do. So... the point of this entire rambling post is this: I've applied for a senior administrator position with the county government. Are you blanching? Do you know me enough to either laugh or be totally incredulous? What the hell am I doing? And if I tell you that if I don't get that job, I'm going to apply for another one?
That's right. The prospect of a fixed income, health and dental insurance package for me and my family, a retirement plan and paid time off looks pretty good right now. The prospect of leaving work and not thinking about it until I return the next day, of basically not having to think so much to earn my money, of a Christmas bonus, have all changed my mind.
So this is why I haven't been writing here. Haven't been sleeping well. Haven't been at all sane.
I'm on the verge of change, and I'm not sure how I got here. But if I get that job, I can always quit, right? Just as I said to myself when I sold all of my meager belongings and left New Mexico for Italy, I can always go back.
But up to now I've never gone back.