Moving is what I do. Since I was 16 the longest I've stayed a place was the painful 3 years in Virginia for school… otherwise I’m usually good for about 6-9 months before I’m ready to go again. Not long after starting radiology school I learned about the travel healthcare world. The excitement I felt about this new career option manifested deep inside and became the drive I needed to get through school and the city that I so clearly didn't belong in. When school was done I was fortunate enough to have my dream job waiting for me in the Cardiac Cath lab. Although it meant sticking it out in Winchester another year at least, I knew this was an opportunity that couldn't be passed up. So, I did my time and started applying for travel assignments as soon as I had a year of experience under my belt. Looking back on it now, it was probably a little too soon for such a rookie, but I had the itch to move and it was long overdue to be scratched. My first assignment was Mesa AZ… that was 3 years, and many many chapters ago.
Other than the fact that this next chapter is taking place in freaking AFRICA, something else is different. I was struggling to figure out why I was having such angst about this move. Why was I feeling envious of my roomies who signed a year lease last week, when I was getting ready to embark upon such an amazing adventure?! The reasons I came up with were probably all a little bit true... figure in my anxiety and notorious indecisiveness and, well, that's reason enough. For those who don't know I’ve been working near Sacramento for the last 5 weeks and commuting back to San Francisco on the weekends. Something happened last week when I was driving back into the city on the Friday before my holiday party. My brain was inundated with thoughts of the 738282 things I had to do that weekend, the windows were down, and the radio blaring (as usual). When I started over the bay bridge with the entire San Francisco skyline in front of me everything suddenly made sense; I was home.
I didn’t immediately know what to do with that feeling. I was excited. This was something I’ve been waiting to feel. Whenever someone asks me what I’m looking for doing this travel thing my answer is always along the lines of “a place that feels like home.” Now I had found it… and I’m leaving? What?? Saturday, possibly after a glass (or two) too many, while I was preparing my very first Thanksgiving dinner all the emotions I had been bottling surfaced at once. Did I even want to go on this trip anymore? How could I not want to go? What kind of mashed potatoes was I going to make? Was the water cold enough when I made the pie crust and did I stir it too much? What costume am I going to wear? Why am I even having this @&^%#$* party when I have so much other stuff to be doing????? I think you get it… I had a little Jen meltdown right there in the gorgeous kitchen of the best sublet ever, in my newest favorite city.
After dialing all of the usual suspects I was comforted by the idea that I wasn’t just up and leaving this place that I wanted to call home or the people that have become like family. In fact, having figured this out now frees me to explore myself and my surroundings without the burden of worrying about where I’m going to go when I return to the states. Now the answer is simple: I’m going home. The hard part will be finding a job, apartment, and getting into school… but in my book, nothing easy is ever really worth doing.
In case you were wondering the holiday party was more amazing then I had ever imagined. With the help of my beautiful ladies Jennifer and Dar we managed to pull off Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, Hanukah, New Years, Valentine’s Day, and St Patty’s Day all in one. The evening was complete with an appearance by Santa, formalwear and a countdown to midnight with a foil ball drop (okay it was only 7… it was a Sunday night after all), love notes and green jell-o shots. Minus the subpar Pumpkin Pie… it was definitely a night to remember.
CHEERS.
how is it going???????????
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