Coping with change and my Big News

This change I can deal with. Image courtesy of Rebecca Barray WANA Commons

I’m no longer big on change. I say “no longer” because I used to be all for it.

Years ago, when a club I was involved with debated whether to cut ties with our existing sports club or go in a new direction with a new sports club, I voted for change. I was all for a new start and a chance to build something new and exciting from the ground up. In hindsight, we should have looked better before we leapt, but that’s a whole other story.

Back to my point.

I now like being comfortable. I like the familiar. It’s easy. It’s known. It’s not scary. It’s safe.

When something happens to change that?

I worry. I panic. I get agitated and angry. I’ve also been known to swear. Or, in the case of TV shows, stop watching altogether. (“They’ve changed time slots again?? I’m just not going to watch any more. That will show them!” Sidenote – I really do miss Bones and Greys. Sigh.)

Sometimes, change can be sudden and unexpected.

Like last night, when we went to do our grocery shopping, we realised the shop was changing its layout. I could tell something was up as soon as I could see the toilet paper at the top end of the last aisle – it’s usually at the bottom end. (Ha ha! I didn’t know I’d made that joke until I was retyping this post.)

I was immediately on my guard. Lo and behold, the softdrinks were no longer with the chips, but with the condiments and sauces (WTF?) Thankfully, they’d left the chocolate in the same aisle as it had always been. I guess someone in management was smart enough not to change that aisle around.

After some bitching and whinging, my wife slapped me and told me to get a grip. No, not really, but I did get over it. The aisles that were finished didn’t look so cluttered and apart from having to search for a few things, the shopping trip was still relatively painless.

Some change though, is a slow burn of acceptance.

Which brings me (finally) to my Big News.

Short version: Wifey has a new job based in another town and we’re moving. (Saying that fast is like ripping off a bandaid and makes it seem easier than it is.)

Long Version: “The Plan” has always been for me to give up work and focus on my writing “at some time in the future.”

That future is fast approaching.

It’s exciting and scary and OMGWTF! all at once.

We’ve been planning this move since this time last year when Wifey landed the job temporarily. We discussed the possibility that it could become permanent which would mean a move to a small town further west.

At first I was like “no way”, but after many long nights of drinking discussion I realised what a great opportunity it is for us both career-wise.

Wifey gets the opportunity to take a higher position doing something she loves, and I finally get the opportunity to stop working for someone else and start really working on getting myself published.

What did we do to celebrate the fact that we’d be dropping to one wage? We went out and bought an investment property. Yay! (Face palm.)

Leaving aside that financial decision (it will be better for us long term, I promise Wifey!), the road to acceptance has been a long one.

The thing is, I never actually thought I’d be able to take time off of my real job to concentrate on my writing. It was always on my wish-list but never, until now, attainable.

So when the opportunity arose, I railed against it. (You did what?) I actually started talking myself out of my dream of becoming a published author, able to live off the money I make from my writing.

Stupid really, but I was scared. Scared of failing, scared of writing crap, scared of letting down everyone who supports me (even though I know they think I’m crazy). Scared of letting go of a great job with great people that brings in safe money so that we can live a luxurious comfortable life filled with holidays and shopping and paying off our mortgage.

As with all change, there’s a transition period. Right now we’re in the “Holy shit we need to finish renovating the house so someone will pay us enough money to pay out the mortgage and let us get a new car” phase.

After that will come the “I can’t believe no-one will buy our house for a gazillion dollars, it’s so worth it” phase, immediately followed by “We’ll never have another first house, ever!” phase.

Then there’s the “I NEVER want to move again” phase as we unpack and set up a new house in a new town where we know only the people Wifey works for.

But after ALL of that, will be the (hopefully) very long phase of “S R Silcox, full-time author.”

I’ll be sure to let you know how that goes.