Cali-for-ni-a

Where the rain doesn’t rain it just drizzles Champaign.

Well, I have to say I haven’t really done much freaking out, for me at any rate.
I kind of feel detached from it. It doesn’t seem real. Even if it is it’s not like there is much for me to do. I don’t see it as my decision. Sure I’m involved, but not in an integral way.
The offer isn’t mine, the choice isn’t mine, the decision isn’t mine. The only part I feel I own in this is sort of as a consultant. I can have an opinion in the matter, but I don’t see much weight in that.

In casual conversation we talk around it.
“Good thing we didn’t buy a house (ha ha ha)”
“We’d have to get rid of any furniture that we couldn’t break down”
“Have you thought about your job making a counter offer?”
But other than that he says the job sounds cool and I shouldn’t worry about it right now. There is nothing to worry about. He hasn’t actually been made an offer; they only called to see if he’d be interested.
Survey says
“Yes”

What is there to tie me here? The job? Sure, I finally found a job that isn’t maddening and the people are nice. And yes I quickly saw it as a career path, but it’s not my life long dream (unlike his job and recent offer). The proximity of my family? Not really. My friends? Really, all but one are elsewhere anyway. Besides, I have that gypsy gene. The nomadic wanderlust. I haven’t been able to stay in one place very long. I think 4 years is my record and I’ve already been here almost that long. I never saw myself spending the rest of my life here, not that I don’t like it here I just never saw it. You know what I mean?
So the move isn’t really all that frightening.
I can probably be content anywhere for a while.
So, the questions for me seem to be; can I deal with this if it is permanent, and can I support myself?