I’m having a thought here, and that thought is about moving. Every single one of my thoughts has been about moving: how to get all the furniture up to Queensland, shutting down my membership with the badminton club, and organising Chester’s cat-carry-case so that he doesn’t totally freak out when we load him onto the plane.
However, this is a new thought. A new, and exciting thought, one quite different to all of my previous ones. What if…I…don’t move. Yeah, imagine that. I stay here, someone else can have the special job with all the wonderful perks, and I just stay here, without the hassle. I’ll ring up the conveyancing solicitors, say that I’m actually not moving out of Melbourne. Property conveyancing solicitors are good with moving, so they’ve got to be pretty great with NOT moving. That’s a lot less paperwork. Maybe someone can go early.
For the record, it’s not the hassle that’s putting me off. It’s not the meetings with the conveyancers either, since they’re pretty decent and experienced about this whole huge move thing. And I like their little desk mints. But I’m getting some serious cold feet about moving out of the only city I’ve ever known, to a place with humidity all year round, distracting beaches and probably worse coffee. What if I meet some conveyancers up there, and they’re not as nice as the ones down here? What if Chester hates it, and I’ll have moved my cat several thousand kilometres only for him to be miserable for the rest of his life?
Everyone is saying that I need to just take the plunge and deal with the consequences. Everyone I saying that it’s a better job than what I’ll get here in Melbourne. Vendors statements point to it, the conveyancers are even saying it, probably because I’ve been a problem client, of sorts. Maybe I should just do it then. Take the plunge, don’t think too much…and keep a few friendships going, so I can come back and crash on a sofa if it all goes bad.