September 2008


So, a new job opening was just posted on my professional organization’s website.

It’s in my sub-field.

It’s at a state university, which I prefer to the SLACs I’ve been applying to (because that’s where most of the jobs are this year).

It’s in HomeState. (Where GB, just the other day, said he thinks we will probably end up, eventually.)

At the risk of sounding cocky, I feel like I might be a pretty appealing candidate to them.

It is, of course, 600 miles from EastCoastCIty, where we’re moving next month. Which means we’d move to ECC, then turn around and move 600 more miles in less than a year.

(Though we’d have to make the cross-country move anyway, I suppose.)

This is all completely insane.

(Yes, of course I’m applying for it, and for all the others, too…and we’ll see what happens. Will I get any interviews at the conference in November? Will I fail horribly at those interviews (as I usually do…I *SO* do not interview well)? Will I get any job offers? Will we just keep moving every freaking year? Stay tuned…)

this is the picture I should have gone with:

(Though I couldn’t have, since I just took it today.)

Clearly, Waylon is ready for this move.

Today, I’m not so sure I am.

  • Job and postdoc applications due: all around October 1st. (I still have to write several cover letters, two research proposals, and a couple of course proposals.)
  • Waylon gets his 4 month vaccinations on October 6th.
  • We are planning on leaving here around October 11th. (We have to fly from the east coast to the location of Big Damn Conference on Oct. 31st.)

In the meantime, we have to figure out how to sell/store/trash all of our stuff; how to pack, maybe, two boxes to mail with stuff we really, really need; rent an apartment in East Coast City (from afar); rent a van and move all of our crap into GB’s parents’ storage (assuming it even fits); figure out how to come up with enough money for hotels, gas, and food; pack everything up….Oh, it just goes on

Yes. Today I am convinced this is an utterly insane idea. But apparently we’re doing it.

I can’t believe I’m not drinking, these days.

I think we’re actually doing it.

We’re moving back.

(Note: that’s an old picture, but I didn’t want to wake Waylon up to put the hat on him and photograph him again. But here’s a more recent, and completely unrelated to this post, picture of Waylon for your viewing pleasure:)

Anyway. Yeah. I can’t explain. This is just kind of what we do…though usually we’re both drunk when we make these decisions, and this time only one of us was drunk.

Which means I made this decision sober.

Weird.

But yeah. We gave notice on the apartment today. I know none of it makes sense, but it seems right. And yes, I’m still on the job market…but I may be a little picky about the jobs I look for. But you know what? Neither GB nor I have ever been career-oriented. Honestly, we both tend to look at our careers as that stuff we do until we can get back home to our friends and family. And my whole family wants to move back east, so, you know, there you have it.

Stay tuned for major freakouts as we try to get four cats, two human adults, one human baby, and at least some of our crap (well, mostly Waylon’s crap) into a Toyota for the drive back across the country….

(Oh, and because I’m too lazy to post a new post about this: the six day panic attack? It was my thyroid. Apparently I’ve gone all postpartum hyperthyroid (i was hypo- before), and that’s what was making me feel like crap. My TSH levels were insanely low. So we’re adjusting my meds and hoping that works….But yay, I’m not crazy! At least not in that way…)

Guess what I got for my birthday yesterday?

A day-long panic attack.

Wait–make that a two-day-long panic attack, because it keeps starting back up.

You know, [rant ahead] it drives me crazy when people who don’t actually have panic disorder talk about having a “panic attack” because, for instance, they’re stressed about a deadline or something. Or–people who don’t have them and don’t really understand say, “Well, what are you stressed about?” Panic attacks–the ones I have, anyway–are not anxiety about anything in particular. They’re not brought on by stress about something. They come out of nowhere, unexpectedly, and pretty much just make me feel like I’m dying.[rant over for now]

Anyway. I think it’s a panic attack, or rather, a series of them. I feel better for a little while (maybe a half hour?) and then it starts up again. These ones are different than the ones I usually have–I have a headache, and hot flashes (ooh, so many hot flashes), and chills, and no appetite, and shaky hands….Ugh. And I’m trying to convince myself I don’t have meningitis or something, because that’s how the panic attacks work–they convince you that it really IS something fatal, it IS different this time. Because that Feeling Of Impending Doom? Is the most consistent of all my symptoms.

So. I’ve been trying, since yesterday, to convince myself I’m not dying right this minute, and that Waylon isn’t going to get anything horrible from me. GB keeps telling me it’s just the panic disorder, and he’s probably right. I’ve been trying to decide all day whether or not to go to urgent care…but I think I would probably feel way too stupid going in for a headache, hot flahes, and shaky hands.

Oh, and the feeling of impending doom.

So yeah. I’m trying to get through it. Took some ibuprofen a little bit ago and am hoping that takes care of the headache (which isn’t meningitis, right? Right?). Trying to focus on smiley Waylon and my awesome, solid GB and just get the hell through this.

(Have I mentioned here before that I am the Queen of Psychosomatic Illnesses? I’ll tell you about that another time. It’s entertaining.)

Ugh. Someone remind me that it’s probably just the panic attacks and anxiety and nothing horrible, and I’ll be fine, right?