Well, almost. For those of you who know me personally, you know that last week I accepted a position at a Boston hospital. This has been my dream for a long time, pretty much ever since I finished grad school at UF, but even before that I always knew I wanted to settle down in Boston. When I took my current job, a big reason was to get me from Florida back to Massachusetts. My family and closest friends knew I considered it a stepping stone to get to my ultimate goal of doing PR for a Boston-area hospital.
My dream has finally come true. I will be doing media relations for a large Boston cancer hospital and their official charity. I started interviewing for the position in May, and accepted an offer on Wednesday. I start July 15, which means my last day at my current job will be July 10 so I can have a few days to wrap up my life in western Massachusetts, move and settle in.
I still haven't found a place to live yet. It was such a crazy week that by this weekend, I was physically and emotionally exhausted. I have spent hours looking online, calling and emailing about possible apartments, and even Skyping with a potential roommate. I'm going to be in the city this Saturday to try on bridesmaid dresses for Julia's wedding, but I have crack of dawn and late afternoon appointments to see a few places. One is a room in a 2br, 1ba apartment in a Mission Hill house with a girl in her mid 20s. The other is a room in 3br, 1.5ba condo in Woburn (yes, where my best friend Julia lives - right around the corner actually!) with a professional male in his early 30s. And then there's a potential room in a 5ba, 2ba apartment in Brighton. One of the roommates is a friend of a friend, but four girls is a lot of estrogen. I think Rags needs somewhere really mellow and quiet, because that's what we had when we lived alone in Florida and he was so well-behaved. His crankiness is either due to his age (he's almost 8) or - the more likely culprit - living with two male adults and another dog, so he really never has any personal space or down time. I think one roommate would be ideal, and no other pets.
Actually, living alone would be ideal but since I am working for a nonprofit and have not much in the way of savings, a roommate is a must at first. I'd also rather bunk up with someone before signing away my life on a year's lease when I may hate the person, the neighborhood, etc.
Julia has extended "my bedroom" to me in the event that July 15 arrives and I still don't have a place to live. Or if I find a place that isn't immediately available. The Mission Hill apartment is available before I am (July 1) and the Woburn condo is available Aug. 1, so either of those would work out.
Money was actually the only thing that caused me to hesitate on accepting the offer right away. I negotiated my salary for the first time and am happy with the offer, but then I started thinking about rent and buying a new wardrobe (they wear suits to work every day, it's business casual at the college until summer and then it's just summer casual - I don't own suits) and I started to freak out. My best guy friend Sean said, "You'd be doing something you enjoy and you'd be near people you like to spend time with, and I think that adds immeasurably to your happiness." He was right. At that point, my mind was made up.
It's no secret to most that I have been miserable at my job. I like my officemates, but people outside of our department are downright nasty. Working in higher education without a doctorate often means being looked down upon, and for people with as much experience as we have, that's just not OK. I have been made to cry in meetings, referred to as a line item on someone's budget, been told I have no experience, been embarrassed by a faculty member in front of a reporter for no reason other than said faculty member's power trip...it's just been too much. And also, I miss healthcare. Working in sports made me sure I didn't want to work in sports. Working in higher ed made me sure I don't want to work in higher ed. Working in an agency made me sure I didn't want to work in an agency. I have yet to deal with the corporate bs, but I'm pretty sure I wouldn't like it. Healthcare is where I'm meant to be.
I also don't love western Massachusetts. Nor do I love admitting that at 28, I live with my dad and brother. In my defense, I had two weeks to quit my job and move from Florida to Massachusetts to start my current job, so of course I just moved back home. And then, when I was ready to get my own place, I was scheduled for major surgery that could have very well left me on disability from work for six months or longer, and even if it didn't, I was going to need round-the-clock care for a week or two while recovering. So I stayed. And then I started seriously applying for jobs in Boston and knew it would be silly to move out during that process when I could be saving.
Except it all happened much more quickly than I was expecting and I didn't really get to save. Four weeks from today, I will be at my first day at my new job. My new office is not in the hospital (boo), but it's directly across the street from the Yawkey Way entrance to Fenway (um, awesome!).
I'm trying to be positive today, so I'll save my recent car troubles for another post, and also until I know how much the repairs are going to set me back. Because I don't want to think about until I have to.
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