By the time the offer was made, I'd known I was going to accept. I'd already been mentally distancing myself from my job months beforehand, and upon coming back, knew that--no matter what--I wasn't going to be staying at the Santa Fe job. Whether it was Baltimore, or another place in New Mexico, I was ready to leave the place in Santa Fe for hopefully greener pastures. It was only a matter of time.
3 weeks' time, it turned out. Once I'd been offered and accepted the Baltimore job, they told me they needed me the first week of April, which gave me 3 short weeks to figure everything out. I told my family, told my friends, and started my research.
Turns out, moving is HARD. And expensive. Finding an apartment in a city you don't live in and aren't familiar with? Scary and stressful. Condense all that in with a time crunch? Given my body's past reactions to stress (ulcers, rashes...) I'm surprised the flu didn't come roaring back with a vengeance.
I tried to keep a level and pragmatic head. I looked at furniture I'd collected and held onto over the years (an impossibly heavy armoire I particularly loved, procured at Target for 75% off; a baker's rack and dining set I'd bought for $50 and repainted to look like new), and made harsh cuts, selling a large amount of it on Craigslist (though, at a very nice profit from what I'd originally paid for it all, so that was a nice bonus).
I packed. I made reservations for a moving pod. I found an apartment and signed the lease, having only their website and Google street maps to go off of. I finally put in my notice with 2 weeks to go, giving them no more notice than I had to. I notified brides and hotel contacts, many of whom seemed genuinely upset to see me go. I watched as days ticked by, and the Santa Fe bakery failed to make any provisions for wedding cakes once I'd left. I enlisted my amazing family to help me move my things and painstakingly arrange them into a moving pod that looked entirely too small to fit everything (and yet it did, with a bit of room to spare).
With the help of my mom, I cleaned out my condo, packed the last of my belongings and my cat into my car, and headed down to Albuquerque for a last few days with my family before my Monday departure. I was feeling the stress: the stress of change, of money, of leaving the support system I'd had close by all my life. Up until that point, my parents and younger siblings had pretty much never been more than a 3 hour drive away. This was to be the first time I'd live so far from them.
My lovely younger sister was coming on the road trip from New Mexico to Maryland with me--we had a plan, hotel reservations, roadside attractions to visit--we were ready. Monday morning came, the car was packed, the GPS loaded up, the treats stashed away...and I was bawling. Thinking about it now, even, I tear up. It was one of the hardest things ever to get in that car and drive away, and pretty much the only thing that spurred me on right then was knowing that--at that time--I was at a point of no return. My stuff was on its way, I had a years' lease signed that I had to honor, and a new job to start. I had to be a grown-up and see it through.
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