For about a week, I’ve been dreading writing this post. Because I really hate big throat-clearing announcements. And I also hate goodbyes.
But it’s time to face reality. Sigh. In a couple of weeks, the hubs and I will say farewell to NYC and drag a U-Haul full of stuff down to Raleigh, NC.
Why the move? The short answer is that the hubs’ job here in NYC was a one-year deal and it ends this month. And he wants to pursue a very cool entrepreneurial opportunity that requires him to be down there, at least for a little while.
Unfortunately I can’t make a solid financial argument for us to stay in NYC based on my incredibly lucrative career as a lazy freelancer and part-time retail worker. (Believe me, I tried. There was lots of fuzzy math involved. Hubs saw right through it, the smarty pants.)
Anyway. As I’m sure you’ve gathered, I’m sort of having a hard time accepting all of this. Okay, a really hard time. Although I never envisioned New York as a permanent residence, I kind of had my heart set on staying a little longer. We’ve barely been here a year.
I love it here. I love my work, even though I earn a fraction of what I did in my consulting days. I love my neighborhood. I love my friends, both old and new. I love running in Central Park and track workouts with my team and fro-yo from Bloomingdales. I love not driving and having things delivered.
I am pretty darn happy here. And change is hard when you’re happy.
I’m sure North Carolina is a wonderful place. Really. I know I’ll probably adjust just fine and be happy as a clam there, eventually. But it doesn’t take the sting out of making a change that I don’t particularly want to make. This is the fourth major move that the hubs and I have made in the last few years. I feel like I just got settled here and now it’s time to uproot. Again.
This NYC year has been so wonderful, and I’m glad that I’ve been able to share my adventures with you guys. I feel like being a New Yorker has been a part of my blogdentity (made up word alert) and truthfully it’s a little scary to lose that. (Scary and sad. The tears started flowing two paragraphs ago, and my beer is getting unfortunately salty.)
I hope that you’ll all come along with me for the next chapter. I promise lots of fun stories about BBQ and humidity and…other things that happen in the South, I guess. It’s the one part of the country I’ve never lived, so this is all gonna be brand new to me!
Thanks for attending my pity party. I’ll be back tomorrow with some more upbeat eating, drinking and/or running content for your reading pleasure!