Pazzesco!
Pazzesco!

Tuesday, May 02, 2006


it's not like I changed my entire life or anything
I have determined that I operate best in big sweeping motions. I don't carefully approach something with great thought and planning. I won't lie though, there is some speculation into the how and why, but usually once the thought enters my head, it is an absolute truth. Whether it's extreme weight loss, alcoholism, or even something as simple as buying a penguin dressed as a butler, this course of thinking has always worked for me. It seems to be working quite well in fact.

As you know I was less then happy with my job situation at Mercedes Ass. Management movement, the bringing in of unqualified people, low pay, and even lower bonusness all led me to begin looking for a job in late February. As a part of that I decide that moving to Philadelphia would be best. My lady and I agreed that if we were to settle down anywhere it would be there. It's very close to New York, the cost of living doesn't hurt as much, and we know lots of people. Furthermore, I can have a window open in my house and not feel like I live next to a highway. There were many pluses to this equation. But, if I was going to do this, the job would have to pay exceedingly well and I'd have to be doing something I enjoy. If that didn't happen then no dice.

In my head, unbeknownst to many, I began looking at this job thing as a first notch in an ever expanding key to a new life. If I went on an interview, got decent job, and an affordable apartment, I was going to do something that had been in my head at least from last summer. But a lot had to happen in order for all of this to pan out.

Job searching sucked, it always had. In my moments at work when I wasn't doing anything, (All the time) I spent my time perfecting my resume/cover letter and applying to any job I was qualified for and peaked my interest. After a month I had given up all hope until I got a call. I set up an interview and conveniently told work I had something I needed to do that day. The day before the interview I called in sick to rest up, and luckily heard from a different employer asking if I was going to be in the area. I said I would be tomorrow and a second interview was planned. I went down to Philly on Friday and met with two different companies. Both jobs seemed promising, but the second one paid more, and the interview (more like conversation) went exceedingly well. After just a weekend I got a call from the second job with an offer. Two days later the other company offered me a job as well. In a matter of three days I went from one job to three. Big sweeping motions. It was a sign.

I accepted the second employer's offer that day, told them I could start work in two weeks and immediately began searching for a place to live. That weekend, with my goddess, I went and looked at only two places. We determined that the second apartment was just right. Nice area, lots of space, good rent, and just a block from the train that would take me 10 minutes from work. Another sign.

After a week of playing phone tag with the realtor guy we finally signed the contract and the apartment was ours. The following Monday I told my new conveniently African American woman boss that I was leaving forever on Friday. They then had the audacity to say that they usually just tell people to go home, but they really needed my help in another department and I could finish the week if I wanted to. Seriously a bunch of assholes. I did finish, knowing that I was getting a weeks paid vacation anyway from them, so it didn't matter. I spent the following week getting my stuff together as best I could. Packing, tying down loose ends...buying an engagement ring.

Yeah, that's the point of all this. The search, the job, the apartment; yes, I have a great new job that pays very well, a nice apartment that is slowly feeling like home, and I live in a very nice area. But it's all pointless if I don't have anyone to share it with. I'm not getting all emotional here or anything, but when you spend most of your time away from someone you love, you go to the ends of the earth to rectify that situation. Buying an engagement ring with my Dad was one of the scariest things I have ever done. Not because of the cost, or if it was the right one (although that weighed heavily on my soul), but because of the meaning it had. And giving it to her. Christ I couldn't tell you the last time I felt that nervous. Not because I was afraid of her saying no, but because I love her that much.

Could this be the end of me? No, don't worry. I have an entire new city to complain about, new food gimmicks to try, and being at ground zero of yuppiedom, plenty of annoying people to wipe off the face of the earth. I just get to turn around and see the woman I'm spending the rest of my life with while I do it.

QUICK NOTE: Do I need to get started about gas prices?


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