I Don't Want To Talk About It...

The last few weeks, whenever moving or traveling came up between myself and another person, that was my response. "I don't want to talk about it."

Why wouldn't I want to talk about it? Moving is fun and full of new experiences! I get to move closer to family! We get to be New Yorkers again! Cradle of the Restoration! White Hots! Garbage Plates! WWWWEEEEGGGGMMMAAANNNSSSSSS!!!!!

Whatever. I don't want to talk about it.

But I guess I'll blog about it. You see, the last year and a half has been somewhat of a Suckfest. And I had this insane little notion that moving to Seattle and finally starting our post-grad lives would be refreshing. When Zac first brought it up as a possibility, I couldn't wait to bust out of Provo and give it a go in Seattle. It was exciting and new and Twilight and trendy and Grey's Anatomy and just plain beautiful. And the job market for Zac's field? Firgettabaddit!

So we get these wonderful people to help us out with a place to live while we look for jobs as apartment managers and freelance stuff for Zac. And then nothing.

And more nothing.

And then a possible temp job with Google! Which turns out to be nothing.

Then FINALLY a contract job for Zac with Adventure Works Studios! But it's a start-up company and until they make money, they can only afford to pay Zac, you guessed it, nothing.

So while I don't want to talk about it, we decided perhaps the best course for us would be to move our little family back to New York. Back to family. Affordable housing. And definite jobs.

It makes sense. And our families couldn't be happier, apparently.

So why do I feel so miserable? Like we failed at grasping our Seattle dream and making it happen? Like we wasted six months and a few thousand dollars? With nothing to show other than our apparent failure and our retreat back home? Because that's exactly what it feels like. Life keeps beating the hell out of us, so we're frantically waving our little white "Surrender" flag as we run away and retreat homeward.

Yes, it could be worse. "Every time you're hurt, there's one who has it worse around." I know that all too well. I have several people in the back of my mind that I don't know if I would, or if I could, trade places with. People that have experienced unimaginable things over the last year. Which is another reason that I don't want to talk about it.

So, there it is. We're moving back to New York. Like next week. I'm trying to make the best out of it...Logan is enrolled in summer soccer and wait-listed for Pre-K at my old elementary school. I applied for a job as a director of a non-profit organization. My sister-in-law offered to let me clean the office once a week for a little extra money (Erin, we need to chat!). Zac is working employment out with his dad. Oh, and there are like a bazillion people back there that can't get enough of my kids.

But I don't want to talk about it.

Not just yet, anyways.