Last Friday, the day before my 25th birthday, I lost my job. It was the first time that has ever happened to me and at first, quite rightly, I believe, I panicked. Nathan's job doesn't make nearly enough for us to live on and I know how hard job hunting can be, I've already done it twice since we've been married.
However, upon reflection, I actually feel okay. The work I was doing, public relations, wasn't my favorite. It came with a nice paycheck, and it wasn't bad work, it just didn't inspire me. The more I thought about what happened, the more I saw an opportunity. This could be my chance to return to my first love, print journalism.
That being said, the newspaper industry in this country is in terrible shape, and I think I will have a hard time trying to find a job in it near home. But I try to stay hopeful and in the meantime I do housework and apply for other things. I'm even going to turn in an application in July to be a substitute teacher.
But, I pushed and persuaded and goaded and I finally coerced permission from Nathan to do something I've been wanting to do forever. He said I could start applying for jobs on a small island off the west coast of Europe. It seems like too much to hope for that someone will want me over there and then Nathan will say we can go...but I hope nonetheless.