A State of Flux

For the past several months, Marty Sunshine has been applying for jobs and receiving interviews. All of these jobs just happen to be in states that aren't Arizona. At this point, he has not been rejected because of his skills. Mainly it has been Marty turning down second and third interviews because he wasn't interested or feeling like the company would not be a viable fit. Conversely, the prospective employers and Marty have chats about salary early on and they part friends (with Marty saying "I don't want to waste your time."). One employer asked if they could contact him later about another, "high-level" position they have coming up in a few months. Sure. Fine. Whatever.

At first, it was exciting to think of the possibilities. Every interview came with a will this be, "the job?" I would spend time looking up crime stats, housing info, churches, community colleges, martial arts studios and high schools (Buck wants to go to school if we move) in the respective towns. But now, I am totally over it. The kids are too. In fact, we don't even tell Polly and Buckaroo any more when Marty is interviewing.

In truth, a move could be a multi-year project, given Marty's fantasy job requirements. He isn't desperate. It also means Marty has to be actively looking, which he hasn't been for the past couple of weeks. However, he does have another interview scheduled in a few days. This job came out of the blue and is nothing like what I expected him to want. I went so far as to look up the county it was in and where was the closest Costco and Trader Joe's in relation to the job (about an hour away). But that was as much excitement as I could muster.

I am finding it tough to focus on building a real estate business when the, "are we moving, possibly?" is looming over my head. It isn't that I don't actively seek clients, it is more that why pay for a lot of advertising and business-type stuff that may not be useful if I am closing down. For example, I thought long and hard about renewing my PO Box, but then Marty turned down interview number 3 with a particular organization last November. At that point, I threw in the towel, figuring the PO Box would survive at least six more months, if not another year.

As Marty is the main bread-winner and these talks as a family have been in the works for years, I am not against the idea of moving, I just don't want to live my life in a state of flux. For the most part, I put it out of my head until Marty says the magic words, "I have a job interview lined up." And then, I start this maddening thinking (at least for a few weeks) all over again.