So I'm moving soon. And I've been moving soon for quite some time now. In fact I have an apartment 200 miles away; all my stuff is there, my wife, my cat, my TV. All but the computer, an incredibly uncomfortable hide-a-bed and about four days worth of closes which I keep washing. For weeks now I've wanted to write something about this. For weeks I've wanted to tell you all the news, I've wanted to log on and write, "I'm moving to Bellingham, WOOT!" ...but I can't...
They've known about this for over a year, you'd think they could've had things ready...
What's that? What the hell am I talking about? Oh, perhaps a little back story would be helpful. Since before I was married my wife has had a particular school picked out from which she wishes to acquire her formal education; Trinity Western University in Langley, British Columbia, the most expensive school in Canada. (That is what we've been told anyway, but it's not that big of a deal. I believe it still cheaper than in-state tuition at the University of Washington because Canada prefers to spend their tax revenue on education and health care instead of military power.) So when I was offered a long term project, my employers wanted to know my long term plans. I informed them that we would be moving near or across the border in the summer of 2003. And here we are...
For those of you that don't know, Bellingham, Washington is about 20 minutes from the Canadian border and about an hour from Vancouver (I'm going to be P_I's neighbor). It's such a pain in the ass to immigrate to Canada and getting a work visa (damned foreigners taking jobs away from hard working Canadian families) is quite difficult as well. Because of this, we decided to live in the United States and my wife will get to know the border guards on her daily commute.
This spring we started setting things in motion. It was May that we discussed it again, I told them now was the time for a decision. I could document the work I had done, back out of the project and seek employment elsewhere. But the investment of training dollars and the quality of work I've been able to turn out over the last year an a half was appreciated enough to motivate them into retaining my services, regardless of the fact that there's no office in Bellingham. I will be working from home. I will be moving into a new position, it's a promotion and a little more money, a new boss, and lots of paper work to get through. "July 1st," I told them. (And what's the date today?)
People, my friends, family and my co-workers, keep asking me when I'm leaving. "Soon," is all I can tell them. "Soon," is all I've been able to tell them for some time now. Today I've had six people ask me why I'm still here, "Because those fucking idiots are taking their sweet time about getting things done!" I want to scream at the top of my lungs but all that comes out is a wimpy little shrug and a sorrowful, "I don't know." My (current) boss today jokingly asked me when I was going to give my two-weeks notice. I told him I had: a month and a half ago. I want to be able to tell my family, "I'll be leaving on [insert date here]." But I don't know. It could be tomorrow. It could be next month.
So I'm moving soon. I'll probably go back to my empty house tonight and play Star Wars Galaxies until it's time to go to toss and turn myself to sleep on that hide-a-bed o' discomfort. If there's one thing I've learned out of all of this, it's that I really miss my wife, and that's a good thing.