Yesterday… I put in my two weeks notice.
Tuesday…I accepted a job offer at a university (Officially, the position is somewhat similar to jobs I’ve held in the past. Unofficially, I get to harass professors. The shoe is on the other hand now, pal).
All this change doesn’t come easily and without some drawbacks. The awful blemish breakout on my face is certainly an indicator of the kind of stress I’m feeling right now. It’s just terror. Absolute, unadulterated fear.
You think I’d be used to this by now, right?
My adult life to this point has basically been a James Patterson novel…without the clunky thrill plots. Entire chapters made up of 1-2 pages, and then off to another locale.
Through all that time, in all the places I’ve lived, I’ve stuck to one simple rule that I believe has made all the difference…
# of toilets in a residence = # of people living in the residence
I used to subscribe to the philosophy that the number of toilets should equal n+1, where n = number of people. Seemed like a good idea. Really just a safety precaution. Then I realized how truly awful that is…
...since I was the member of n who was always cleaning n+1 toilets.
Silly people in your McMansions…never realizing that each member of the household only possesses one excretory system.
Anyways, here’s really why I’m stressed…
Our new place has n-1 toilets! If I were living alone…that would REALLY be reason to panic, but since I’ve decided to continue residing with my beautiful husband, it’s only slightly less terrifying.
Talk about life changes.