My life is in transition. Super big, very exciting, kinda scary transition.Last weekend I moved to my new apartment (which is fabulous and I love it) and am living alone for the first time in my life. So far, so fantastic.
Tomorrow I begin my new job at Elsevier (they publish math, science and medical textbooks) and I am more than excited to be doing editorial work again. It's just part-time for now, but maybe/hopefully it will turn into something more by this summer.
Which leads me into transition number 3. At the end of July, I will have to rename this blog because I will no longer be Annie the Nanny. Kathy is retiring and I will be moving on. This is a very, very good thing, but it's also incredibly bittersweet. I'm not quite ready to process my thoughts on that yet but I'm sure I will be as the summer draws near, so stay tuned.
Now, I'm the kind of person who doesn't neccesarily embrace change wholeheartedly. Don't get me wrong, I like variety in my life, but I have a real problem with control and fear of the unknown so right now I feel a bit like a marathon runner wearin high heels. I'm scared of getting hurt and not quite sure I'll be able to finish the race. And since my fight or flight instinct leans heavily towards flight, I've found myself spending hours on the computer researching jobs and schools in London.
Why London, you ask? Well, I lived there right after graduating from college and it seems to have burned itself into my mind as the happiest place on earth. It's not. I was miserably homesick, the pollution was appaling and I don't think I've ever been as poor as I was when I was working there. But there is something about that city that appeals to me. I think about the plays I saw, the streets I explored, the bars we went to, the job I had and the people I met there and it just makes me desperate to return. If I won the lottery tomorrow, I would quit all my jobs and take up a flat in Knightsbridge or Chelsea and just explore the city for 6 months. Of course I would invite you all for a visit, but mostly I think I would just be alone for awhile. You know, to find myself and all. Oh, and I'd probably become best friends with Gwyneth and Madonna. They would make me their 'project', hook me up with their trainer and microbiotic chef, and at the end of those six months I would look like I was the winner of The Biggest Loser.
I don't know if any of you think the way I do, but I suspect my penchant for London has something to do with my fear of commitment. Maybe that's the real reason I'm not with someone. Because I do kind of always think something better will come along. Then again, I also think I'm going to win the lottery, so maybe I'm just completely detatched from reality. Either way, tonight in my dreams there will be double decker buses, fish 'n chips and the Union Jack flying proud. And hopefully an appearance by a naked Chris Martin. I'm just saying...
