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Monday, November 3, 2008

The Move

Before the overseas job offer, I had just separated from my wife and moved into a co-worker's condo and felt like I was a college student moving out from my parent's house for the first time. You see, I had lived the so-called American Dream for the last ten years with a wife, house, long term job and pets. Now I had thrust myself back into the situation of living in a single room with two male roomates downstairs, just like an 18 year-old. It was kind of liberating in a way to be back on my own with nobody to answer to but it felt odd too. I ended up buying the condo as it's owner, a good friend and co-worker of mine was going through a major change in his life too, he was starting a new business with his wife in another city.

After I was offered the position, I was very excited, I knew I was going to take it. After all it was a great opportunity to live, work and get a tax-free income overseas and represented what I consider the peak of my profession. I had a lot of vacation time accrued and I told my future employer that I needed 8 weeks to get things squared away in the U.S. and I was surprised they agreed. I thought this would be plenty of time. I told my current employer that I had accepted another job and don't expect me in to work very much in the next two months as I was taking my vacation days.

I soon found out that I had tragically underestimated the time and effort required for me to settle my affairs in the U. S. in preparation for my move overseas. First of all, I had to get 10 years of accumulated crap out of what was now my ex-wife's house. Then I had to find a place to store all the crap, and I had to figure out where to put my new crap I bought for the condo and what to do with the condo I had just bought. At the time I also owned 2 motorcycles, a Chevy pickup truck and a Mustang GT convertable. Those vehicles would have to be disposed of too.

Did I deal with this well? NO! I would wake up in the morning with the best of intentions for getting a lot of stuff done but I would always revert to staring into the abyss I had created for myself and go into "brain lock"and end up sitting passively around the condo. I swear that I could invent a new psychological malady called Pre Traumatic Stress Disorder. I was a zombie and near catatonic in the weeks prior to my departure. Many thanks to my friends who took up the slack. I vaguely remember driving myself to the airport the morning of my departure but I do remember the good friends that saw me off. It felt very strange leaving the U.S. for what I knew would be a very long time.

When I now look back, it's amazing the rationalization one does when facing a stressful situation. I imagine it is like skydiving for the first time and just saying "Oh, screw it" just before you leap into space. Iam not proud in the way I handled myself in the weeks leading up to my move. I could have done better!


Roger said...

I get to be the first commenter! I forsee an interesting story/history. It's amazing how therapeutic it can be.

Rashida Sarraf said...

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