Is it wrong to celebrate an impending divorce on your anniversary?

Six years ago today I officially entered the insurance industry. I went to work at an office where I spent some summers & holidays in the mailroom, the same office where my Mom had worked for almost ten years. I had just finished my MFA degree & was moving back to Pittsburgh from Bloomington. A month earlier, Mom underwent brain surgery to repair an aneurysm; she was still in the hospital, but about to be moved to an in-patient physical therapy location. I was visiting her every day after work. I bought (well, leased) my first car & my first cell phone. I intended to move back to Pittsburgh after grad school; I didn't know what I wanted to do, but I knew I wanted to move back home. For the three years I lived out-of-state, I struggled with the desire live in new cities, to explore, coupled with the homesickness I felt. Each time I drove home, when I would come out of the Fort Pitt Tunnels & see the city skyline, I would smile. Part of me wanted to love a more sophisticated, more exciting city, but a larger part of me eventually understood that if you find a place that feels like home, you need to stick with that. Others spend their whole lives searching for home.

I've never felt at home as an insurance adjuster. It worked for the moment. Everyone in the office knew of my family situation; everyone loved my Mom. They understood when I needed to leave early or come in late because of her doctor's appointments or occasional setbacks in recovery. A year later, when my Dad's health started to falter, it was still a good thing to be working only five miles from their house, to still be working with understanding people. I lived at home for about two & half years. I took a few promotions. I made some good friends. I moved to an apartment closer to the city, but still kept working at the same suburban office. As time went on, the atmosphere changed. There was a "redeployment" of staff, which essentially was the threat of layoffs. This strategy worked just as they wanted it to: the overstaffing was rectified through attrition. Everyone got scared & look for another job. Including me.

I moved to my current company in July 2006...after a wicked happy hour at a bar down the street from the office on my last day. A night of many bottles of Corona, many SoCo & lime shots. We sat on the patio & there was an island theme, steel drums I believe. I am certain there were many shouts of "Shabba!" as the night wore on. I ended up throwing up in the parking lot. A parking lot connected to an Arby's. An Arby's that has a drive-thru lane in direct view of my chosen throw-up spot. Nice. Friends from the office were at my house warming party a few months after I quit. We still go to happy hours occasionally, although it's getting harder to plan them, as more & more people move from the office. I count two former co-workers as two of my closest friends, Dana & Bryan.

Despite the friendships, I can't describe how miserable I was at the old job. I think I've blocked most of it. I don't want to even try to describe it. I don't even want to spend the time trying to explain what exactly a claims adjuster does, or why it sucks so much. I'm pretty good at what I do, I could be really good, if I had the interest. When I changed jobs, it came with a nice pay raise & a much more professional atmosphere. If I stay here much longer, with the yearly raises & performance bonuses, I'll soon be making too much money & looking at too much potential upward mobility to walk away from. (Now, mind you, this is not big money in any way, just a comfortable amount for a single gal in da Burgh.) It's time to make this the last insurance anniversary!

And you know that I've taken the steps to do just that. I put in my notice to leave the current company; my last day will be June 13th. Full-time classwork starts three weeks later on July 7th. In those three weeks, I'll be studying for the Praxis II, finishing up my online algebra course, looking for a part-time job. In just three short terms, I'll be completing my second Masters & requirements for state certification, then looking for a job as a high school English teacher.

The third time is the charm because this is the third time I've started taking these steps. During that first year after moving back from Bloomington, I looked into Pitt's MAT program, even met with an advisor & started the application. I never followed through; I think I got wrapped up in Dad's health issues. A year or two later, I actually completed the application for Carlow's Education program. I got the acceptance letter & the info for how to start the matriculation process. I never followed through; I don't remember why I didn't. This time around, I started thinking seriously about this move in the Fall. I took the Praxis I test in October, started meeting with advisors at Pitt & Chatham. I almost put it off too long, but turned off the procrastination in the last couple months & got it done for Chatham.

Six years. Do I regret not following through on one of the other two back-to-school attempts? Sure. Do I love some of the results of staying in insurance for so long? Sure. Am I happy to have been able to help my parents when they needed it? Sure. Am I sure that this move will be the right one? No. I can't be sure of that. I think I'm making a wise choice. I'm finally doing what has been in the back of my head for so long. Do I wish that I could have put in notice to have today, the exact anniversary, as my last day of work? Most definitely. But the countdown is on.

I'll borrow a phrase from the call/call cancel maneuvers of last summer (only Julia & Drewby will get this, oh well): SHE'S DOING IT!