The problem with blogging so infrequently is that things pile up to the point where there's just too much to cover and I end up not covering anything. Bleh.
Long story short, things change, all the time, and sometimes there's the sense that there's a reason for it, a master plan, and other times, it seems random as a three-legged dog ordering a drink at your favorite bar.
The "Dream Apartment" in Inwood fell through last month as our credit, which isn't great but is good enough to get a mortgage at a decent rate, wasn't good enough to get into the building. Yes, we can borrow $300k, but we can't rent a $2000 apartment. WTF?
So we decided to stay put in the BX, signing a two-year lease that will keep us relatively stable until India's ready for Kindergarten, and wondering what the next curve ball would bring. As if on cue, Salomé changes jobs, accepting what seemed to be the best of the three offers on the table, only to find out she'd been sold a Volvo when she was in fact getting a Kia. Plan C = NYC Teaching Fellows, which comes with a significant pay cut, some serious belt-tightening and a hint of some light at the end of the tunnel. Coincidentally, it also means staying put for two years while she completes the program, a program that would have been out of reach if we'd gotten the apartment in Inwood.
Things change, sometimes for a reason.
As for me, I'm in limbo and not particularly thrilled with it. That Plan C offers the possibility that, in a few years, we can move from the area again with one of us having a transferable career is a good thing, making the necessary sacrifices a bit more bearable. At the same time, a few more years of sacrificing for a vague end result that will undoubtedly include its own set of compromises is more like looking forward to Thanksgiving than Christmas.
Days like this I wish I had simply gone to school for something tangible, like marketing or accounting, instead of doing the pseudo-creative thing, sowing my oats and opting for life experience over resume experience. I've pretty much hit the ceiling in marketing, a career I fell into rather than chose, and would have to complete my BA to move any further, an unlikely thing before Plan C, but is now a definite no-go.
More and more, I'm tempted by the idea of going into sales, but loathe the idea of starting in Classifieds and doing most of my work over the phone.
And, of course, there's my writing, which despite the comics stuff keeping the juices flowing, is feeling more and more like the red-headed stepchild in my life.
Some things never change, presumably for a reason.