Moving on

Today my co-worker shared with me a photo of two toilets sitting in an open field with a sign nearby that said Please Wait to be Seated. An earlier photo showed one of the same toilets with an umbrella over it. These were taken in Laytonville, in Mendocino County, a couple hours’ drive south of here. The toilet wranglers apparently dress them up with different accessories now and again, and my boss stops to take a picture whenever he travels down 101. I was overcome with affection for those commodes…. Well, not so much the appliances themselves, but the North Coast kookiness they represent.

I love this place. I love that some musicians just walked into the coffee shop where I’m typing this, and I recognize one of them because he used to live next door to me and, before that, work at the “J” where I ate all my meals when I lived in the dorms. The band that played here a few nights ago included a musician who serves me coffee at Ramone’s before I go to work. Today, a former classmate of mine from HSU unexpectedly walked into the office to have a meeting with my boss. You get the idea.

I’m at home here. The coffee shop is playing reggae music, and I like it; when I left Sacramento I don’t think I’d ever heard reggae. The idea of people wearing costumes and jumping into the bay, or piloting weird contraptions into the bay, or just dancing around on the Plaza, is normal to me. I wouldn’t bat an eye at someone riding a unicycle down the street (although it would be cool). And there’s such a great small-community vibe here (disregarding local politics for the moment).

The circumstances are right for me to be thinking about moving on. I’ve been at my job for almost a year, which is the minimum commitment I made with myself. I’ve acquired a lot of new skills that I can apply to other jobs and I’ve learned more about what I want and don’t want in a career. There’s nothing permanently tying me to this area. I’m beginning to recognize the importance of having a job with health benefits, which my current job doesn’t offer me. My current roommate will be leaving at the end of May or June. I’ve been thinking about leaving for at least a year, on and off. Thinking about the logistics of relocating is stressful, but the idea of leaving makes me deeply sad. I get sadder the more seriously I consider the possibility, and in a way that I can’t explain, this means that I’m growing toward acceptance of the idea. There will come a time when I’ll let go of the fear, make my decision, and start setting things in motion.

… I’m sure I was going to write more, but the music in here just got really loud.

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