The Plan.


The Story

I work in Indiana but live in Seattle with my husband, an arrangement that has necessitated my resigning from a position at a small university in my hometown in Indiana, a hometown I happily complained about while I was there but had no intention of ever leaving. That was before I met Z and made the out-of-character proclamation that I would follow him anywhere. He’s from Zimbabwe, so I’d be lying to you if I didn’t confess that I was hoping “anywhere” would translate to “anywhere with reliable high-speed internet and no dictator.” I love Seattle but I miss cows and quiet. Right now I’m looking out of my grimy window onto the noise-laden streets of First Hill.

So this teaching gig I’ve had for over a decade that I love and that I’m pretty awesome at is ending next spring. Though my immediate superiors suggested and were in favor of my unique long-distance-with-regular-visits-to-campus teaching situation, a new dean (who I am refraining from referring to as Voldemortress) and more senior administration decided that they were not. I’m in the process of removing all traces of the school from my current living space the way you go through your bedroom when you are 16 and throw out all traces of the boyfriend who just told you he thought you should see other people. Goodbye refrigerator magnet. Farewell red hoodie. Sayonara oddly shaped document bag that I’ve never known how I was supposed to use.

Also, I’ve begun to think of the place as F.U.U. If I could find a T-shirt with that emblazoned on it, I’d write in it daily.

See how I started out all nice and then started spiraling into the angry? That can only help the atmosphere here.

The Situation

There’s a countdown clock to the right to remind me. I have a year to figure out what I want to do with the rest of my life and to start doing it. My goal is a seamless transition from this job I did love to a new job I love even more. Or maybe not a job. Maybe a lifestyle. Do I want to teach? Do I want to try my hand at the full-time writing career I’ve dreamed of? Do I want to become a grammar consultant to the stars? Edit the memoirs of millionaires who will pay handsomely? Should I start a meat pie business (a dream of my husband’s from his youth) or become a window dresser (a dream of mine from my early childhood)?

Tune in to find out.


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