Snerkology
snerk (n): An utterance which suggests amusement/disgust/derision/disbelief.

Tag: Maine

Mackerel Cove, Bailey Island, Harpswell Maine.
Mackerel Cove, Bailey Island, Harpswell Maine.

Disambiguation

It’s all worked out that my first day at my new job is on July 15th. I’ll work at AcronymCo until June 7th, and will then be on “vacation” until July 5th. We’ll be in Maine for our vacation from June 11th through the 22nd. Then it’s back to AZ to finish up the moving details. I’ll leave Arizona on July 8th and arrive in Maine on the 12th. The biggest question mark remaining is Bill’s job. He’s going to try to transfer with his current company, but we don’t yet have an answer on whether or not that’s possible. He’ll stay in Arizona until he has a job in Maine. However long that takes. The potential to be separated from one another for an unforeseeable length of time is what is causing me the most amount of anxiety about this whole thing.

It turns out that Amanda wants to rent the house from us, which removes a LOT of the work we were going to have to get done prior to my departure. She’s more than happy to take the house “as is” without the cosmetic improvements we’d need to perform in order to put it on the market. I think it also helps Bill’s anxiety (and mine, too) to know that we still have property in Arizona if everything goes to hell in a handbasket. Which it surely WON’T.

This October would mark the 20th anniversary of my move from Maine to Arizona. I’m excited, and petrified, in equal measures, to be moving back. Anyone who has read this blog for any amount of time knows how much I have wanted to move back to Maine, and for how long I’ve held that dream in my heart. Now it’s here. It’s surreal. It’s wonderful. It’s scary.

I’m leaving AcronymCo after nearly eighteen years of employment (nearly twenty if you count the time spent as a contractor). That’s going to be weird, in and of itself. I KNOW that place. I know everyone there (well, not EVERYONE, but hundreds of people with whom I’ve worked side by side for all of my career). I know all of the in’s and out’s of the company, how it works, what its problems are. I have a rhythm, and a reputation, and tenure. My time at AcronymCo has made the rest of my life possible – gaining the confidence to leave my ex, pursuing my education, meeting and marrying Bill, gaining a wonderful family and two fabulous kids, gifting me with a circle of excellent friends, establishing my home, giving me stability, and providing for all of the wonderful experiences I’ve had over the past two decades. I have nothing but good things to say about my time there, and I will miss many things about it. Not the least of which are all of the friends that I have made along the way.

I’m excited about this new opportunity, though. The discipline – Supply Chain Management – is the same. But the commodities are about as opposite as you can get, and it’s a step upward in my career. I’m going from the semiconductor industry to global food retailing. I’m going from being an individual contributor to a manager. There’s so much ahead of me to learn, and I’m raring to go. I’ve felt for a while now that my career was rather stagnant and I wanted to go in a new direction. That I’m being given this opportunity – no, that I’ve EARNED this opportunity – is a huge boost to my confidence. Back in 2011 I posted about how I wanted to go about achieving my dream. And damn if it didn’t work out almost according to that very plan, with a bit of the aforementioned cart before the horse thing.

We’ve still got a lot of unknowns – Bill’s job and long-term living arrangements being the primary issues. But we ARE smart and we ARE hard working. I’m beginning to believe that we can handle this.

A great spot for thinking.
A great spot for thinking.

Well, I asked for it.

I have a feeling I’m going to be writing a LOT, once these potential changes are put into official motion.

So.  A few weeks back, I got online.  With a “why the hell not” attitude, I looked on the job boards for a few of the bigger companies in Maine. I found several job postings that were perfect for my experience, my expertise, and my newly-minted degree. I applied to them.  Then I kind of put it out of my mind – as if, in a fit of pique (I’d had a bad week at work), I had to enact some form of rebellion to make myself feel better, but without much expectation of success. Except… I heard back from two of the three companies I’d applied to. I had one interview with one company on Monday April 22nd.  It went well, but they haven’t contacted me since that initial conversation.  I had another interview with the other company on Monday the 29th. It went really well, and I had a second interview with them on Wednesday May 1st.  I was the 12th of twelve candidates that they interviewed.  I told them they did well to save the best for last.

That interview went really well, too.  So, I had ANOTHER interview scheduled for Monday the 6th.  THAT interview went exceptionally well.  I was told that, even over the phone, after just a few minutes everyone felt like they’ve known me for years.

If (BIG IF) I am chosen and they make an acceptable offer, I’ll be moving to Maine in the very near future.

Holy shitballs.

I’m not going in the order we planned to go in. I should have waited to apply, waited until after we’d sold the house, made some other preparations, were ready to leave at the same time, etc. etc. ad nausium.  I just… couldn’t. I felt that if I didn’t apply for those “perfect” jobs, another opportunity wouldn’t come along for a long time.  Like it was meant to be, that my boss would piss me off at that exact moment, so that I would log onto those job boards at that exact time, and put myself in the running for those exact opportunities.

So, in a “we’ll make it work, somehow” frame of mind, my thoughts are scrambling to figure out how to pull this off. Bill feels like I’ve put the cart before the horse, and he’s right. He thinks I should have approached this differently, and he’s right. He’s said the timing is off by about six months, and he’s right. He’s also said that we’ll make it work, and sometimes you just have to make the leap. He’s right on that one, too.

IF I’m hired, I’ll have at MOST a couple of months to get things organized and prepare to move myself across the country.  We need to make arrangements for the house, and all of our CRAP needs to be gone through, consolidated, organized, donated or otherwise disposed of.  We have to get as much done while I’m still here as we can, so I don’t leave Bill alone to deal with all of the details.

Then I’ll drive, by myself (although I’m betting I could get Amanda to go with me, then fly back), with our pickup loaded with the possessions I will need, across the whole entire country.  Did I mention by myself?  It’s not how I pictured it.  In my mind’s eye I saw Bill and I in the cab of a big moving van, pulling out of our driveway and hitting the freeway, dogs panting in the back seat and Zoe yowling her fool head off in her carrier, fraught with the anticipation and excitement of embarking upon this new phase of our life.  TOGETHER.  But, I’m a cart-putter-in-fronter, so I get to drive my own sweet ass three thousand miles to my Uncle’s doorstep, who has always told me the apartment is open for me to come any time.

Once my own employment is confirmed, Bill will start applying for jobs in Maine – we’re hoping he can just transfer with his company, but the branch in Maine is small so we’re not positive.  I pray with all my might that things just magically fall into place, that we’re not apart for more than the bare minimum amount of time it takes to make all of these arrangements.  If it’s more than a couple of months I’ll be devastated.  Then once he gets a job in Maine, we will finally FINALLY FINALLY be where we want to be, together.

I’m excited.  I’m hopeful.  I’m scared.  I waffle between optimism and pessimism so hard it gives me whiplash.

Gulp.

Well, I did ask for it.

I’m just going to play pretend here, for a minute.  I want to write it down and look at it.

Say I get hired this week.  We’re heading to Maine on vacation on June 11th and we’re NOT cancelling that, and it’s not possible to move to Maine before vacation.  So, my last day at AcronymCo would be June 7th (I’d get paid for vacation and then have my “official” release date on the 28th or so, but the last day I would actually work would be the 7th).  We’d vacation from June 11th through the 22nd, then I’d use the week after we get back home to finalize stuff.  I’d leave for the drive across the country on Monday July 1st, and it will take five days of 8-10 hours of driving each day to get there, which puts me in Maine on Friday July 5th.  Which means my start date at the new company could be as soon as July 8th.

O.o

It would be so WEIRD and so AWESOME to know that at the end of vacation, in just a couple of short weeks I’ll be turning right back around again and heading back.  This time for GOOD.  I’m going to float above my seat when I cross the bridge over the Piscataqua River, crossing the New Hampshire border and seeing the “Welcome to Maine” sign that greets me with every trip home.

Oh my God, you guys, could this really be happening???

———-

I wrote the above at the beginning of last week.  Before I learned that I got the job.  I found that out on Friday, then spent the weekend mulling over the details before officially accepting the job yesterday. I told my manager at AcronymCo today.

It’s happening.

Here we go.

Oh my God, you guys, here we go.

Giving up to gain.

My desk. Click to embiggen and be fascinated.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about life changes. There are a lot of changes that happen to us that aren’t life changes, per say. They’re just little jogs that alter your path by bare, minute degrees. They accumulate over the span of years and even decades until you look back and realize that once you were there, and now you’re here.

Huh.

The kind of change I’m thinking of making going to make is bigger than a fork in the road. It’s a divining-rod change. Or maybe a hockey stick change? Anyway, it’s a change that demands angles and a sharp demarcation of “before” and “after” by which to reference life in future conversations. It’s a departure from life as I know it, to life as I hope it to be.

And it’s going to take a deep breath and a big gulp before I leap off into this new life. Even changes that you plan for, that you work towards, require that final “can’t go back” step. I don’t know anybody who wouldn’t gulp at that, no matter how prepared they think they are.

Here’s where I get to the point, rather than rambling on generically.

I’ve now lived in Arizona for as many years as I had lived in Maine. That represents half of my life, and all of my adult life. Eighteen of those nineteen years have been spent working on the same campus, and sixteen of those working for AcronymCo. The thought of leaving this job, some day in a future that is more near than far, is nervous-making. Because it’s all I’ve known. Day in and day out, 40 (50, 60) hours a week. For sixteen years. I know the people. I know the rhythm. I know the rules. I know the culture.

Coming from a campus of over 12,000 people, I’m not sure if I would know how to function in a small office environment, for a small (by comparison, it surely will be) company. Oh, sure, I know I could and I will, but it’s sure going to be a culture shock. I’ll especially miss all of the perks that come with working for a multi-billion dollar global company with more money than they know what to do with. Free fruit, soda and coffee (Starbucks AND Seattle’s Best) all day long. On-site conveniences including massages, manicures/pedicures, a spa, a bank, a hair dresser and a full service doctor’s office. A campus gym with personal coaches. A cafeteria that’s more like a restaurant, complete with live music on Wednesdays, free gelato on Fridays, free popcorn on Tuesdays and Thursdays, guest chefs from local restaurants, and a killer Caesar salad. Every day in the cafe there is some sort of vendor set up at a booth selling local pecans, or spice mixes, or jewelry. The community farm co-op delivers to the campus and hosts occasional farmer’s markets in the parking lot. We don’t even have to go anywhere to donate blood or get a mammogram, for Pete’s sake.

What I’m saying is, we have it pretty fucking good here, despite how much we may complain.

On a personal level, I have four weeks of paid vacation per year. I can take sick days that don’t cut into my vacation time. I get a two month sabbatical every seven years, on top of the vacation for that year. I can work from home one day a week, and more if I need to. We get multiple bonuses a year. We have fantastic benefits. My company matches my 401k contributions and rewards us with stock. They’re paying 100% for my education. My salary is nothing to sneeze at, and that’s despite my current degree-less state.

Listed out like that, even I didn’t realize how much I’m going to be giving up when I leave. I have been very, very spoiled. For many years. I’m honestly not trying to brag here, nobody knows better than me how fortunate I’ve been.

When we move to Maine, I will be lucky to make 2/3 of what I’m making now. My annual vacation will probably be reduced to two weeks (though I would push for three). I’m sure there will be no sabbaticals. There will certainly be no on-site massages. I will have none of the comforts that come with tenure. I will be the new kid on the block, starting with a blank slate, sans all of the knowledge I currently have instantly at my fingertips by virtue of just being here for so long.

So yeah. It’s nervous-making.

And it’s happening, just about a year from now. The clock is ticking. As soon as I’m finished with my degree, and I only have four classes left. Then I will be eligible for all of those jobs who wouldn’t consider sixteen years of experience equal to a degree. I could apply to those jobs reserved for new and recent college graduates.

Once the job is secured, everything else follows at a rapid pace.

Once the job is secured, I take that gulp and I take that leap.

I will be losing a lot, by leaving this life that I live right now. But I consider it worth it for the things I will gain.

A little house with a couple of acres. A lot of trees and a bit of grass. Hardwood floors and stone front steps. Air so fresh it almost stings. Spur of the moment wanders along the beach. Picking apples and shopping farm stands. Fresh corn in July. Fireflies. Island exploration. Family and friends. Community-oriented culture. Harvest fairs. Proximity to a host of fascinating places. Double-digit (and if I’m being honest, sometimes single-digit) temperatures. Life’s mad dash reduced to an amble. Physical and mental relaxation for myself and my husband. And hell, for my dog too, probably (who knows, maybe she thinks Arizona is stressful too).

It may not seem compensatory to you, but to me going home is worth more than just about anything I would have to give up to get there.

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