Decisions, decisions

I hate waiting. Not at the Post Office or on the phone or in line at the grocery store. While annoying, those are all necessary waits that are only made longer and more difficult to weather if you allow them to bother you. So I don't mind waiting for the cute little old lady to count out her change when I only need milk. And I don't mind when the lone worker at the Post office is being monopolized by an impossibly needy person when I just need to buy stamps. But even the most patient person on earth will admit that there are some waits that are seemingly unbearable.

A month ago, Joe's company announced that they were looking to consolidate all of their U.S. operation under one roof....a roof in North Carolina. Everyone was told that their job was available to them in NC once the company was relocated, Joe included.

You would think most people in Joe's position would be upset/fearful about the idea of moving or possibly losing his job or the uncertainty of his future with his company. But not Joe. No, he was terrified of one thing and one thing only: asking me to move for the fourth time in two years.

And I'm not gonna lie, I'm not very impressed with the idea. I actually love the idea of relocating to North Carolina (took a little while to sink it, but now I'm on board with it) and the idea of actually getting outside my comfort zone (and Michigan). What I do not love, however, is the act of putting everything I own into boxes. And then taking it out again. Especially not for the fourth time in two years.

Now comes the waiting part. When they announced the relocation they weren't yet prepared to provide information on relocation packages, i.e. moving benefits, salary changes, etc. Those details are scheduled for release this week. So I should feel like the next person in line at the Secretary of State, right?

Wrong. Because while we'll get that information soon and will be able to use it to make our decision on whether to stay or go, those details will not include a time frame. So we might know we're moving but will have no idea when. Thus, I've gotten to the counter and the clerk has told me I need a document that I can only find at the County Clerk. Just one more line, right?

But wait, there's more! Our lease is up at the end of this month. We can a)sign a new lease b)stay here and pay a higher rent amount in addition to a month-to-month fee or c)move out of this apartment to a cheaper place with no lease that accepts pets and hopefully has a lot of storage because if you think I'm going to pack all my shit into boxes just to unpack them at a new place so I can turn around and put them back into the same boxes you're off your rocker. I'd rather hang myself. So basically the County Clerk just told me they don't accept plastic so I'll need to head to the bank. I can do this, I swear.

Just a few more bumps, right? I was planning on going back to school in the fall, but now I don't even know where I'll be living. I hate my job and want nothing more than to quit it and move onto something else, but there's a serious lack of something else around here. We'd probably need to go check out the area in NC, but we'll be in Florida and California from the 25th through the 2nd and we have to commit to our decision by February 12. Oh, and PS, Hilary Clinton is leading in the national polls and she scares the hell out of me, but we won't know how that pans out for about 10 more months.

Somehow, I'm back at the Secretary of State and they've told me to take a number. Currently, they're serving number 29. I look down at my piece of paper:

∞

(it's the mathematical symbol for infinity)

I hate waiting.