My boyfriend, Doug, is a survivalist kind of guy. All things self-sufficient are right in his wheelhouse. I haven't ever been that into survivalism, but I have definitely always been in love with the idea of being self-sufficient as a way of life. Growing up, I never thought the idea of having a homestead and being self-sufficient was within reach. It was too expensive, too much work for just me, and I knew that the increase in government fingers in everyone's honey pots meant that even if I did somehow manage it, I'd be under constant scrutiny and/or regulation by people who thought they knew how I should be living. I gave up on the idea in late high school.
We were at the bar one night with Doug's friend Chris, and his girlfriend Sarah. Chris pulled me aside and we got to talking. He asked, "So you know the plan Sarah and I have for a homestead in the Pacific Northwest, right?" I nodded. "Well, you know, we'd really love to have you and Doug with us there." That moment changed my life.
A few days later, I approached Doug. I knew he was interested in homesteading, but I didn't know how serious he was. We determined that the homestead was our goal. I asserted that everything we do should be with that goal in mind. And with that said, I asked him if it was even worth it for me to keep looking for jobs in that small town. Of course, it was not. We both wanted out, and if we were to leave, it should be something that will bring us closer to our goal of homesteading.
Two weeks later, I'd revamped my resume, subscribed to a premium Linked In account, and studied interview strategies. I targeted a few select major cities between middle America and the West Coast. On March 3, I submitted my first application, and on March 4, the phone began ringing.
Over the prior year, I'd submitted over 500 resumes to businesses local to Southern Maryland. I'd received TWO calls. With this new strategy, I received a call back for almost every resume/application I submitted. Depression had eaten me alive for the last year, and for the first time since it began, the clouds began to part, my confidence returned, and I was finally hopeful.
About six weeks after I began, I had a job offer. A condo management opportunity in Chicago. They're lucky. I've said for years that the ONLY way I'd ever move back to the Midwest was if it was to Chicago. So on April 12, I accepted the offer. I'd start on June 3.
Back in April, it seemed like I had so much time to get ready. I'd have plenty of time to pack, participate in the last few group outings, and get things in order before leaving.
Turns out, life has a way of laughing at your "plans."
But hey, I had a job! A job that was about 1,000 miles closer to the Pacific Northwest, would allow us to save for the homestead, and give us a little bit of adventure in a new town.
Chi-town, here we come!
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