So, little did I know that my job hunt would make me pass over LA entirely and settle in Fresno. I start my new job tomorrow, happy about my coworkers and teachers, but still scared to put a foot wrong. I suspect this is the same in every profession.
I thought moving to the west coast would be a no-brainer. More sun in fall and winter = less chance of depression and therefore a better work performance and adaptability to whatever is thrown my way, yes? Very sensible! I also have family three hours away near LA in case I need a bit more support, or just somewhere to go on a holiday. Best of all, I have K here 24/7, since he is now working for the same hospital. We could even car-pool.
This place is what the big computer in the sky decided, from all my preferences and possibilities. (the residency match algorithm) It's also what fate decided, if I believe in fate, which sometimes I do. So, I moved to a place with palm trees and overall I'm very happy with how things played out. The apartment is beautiful, my co-residents are wonderful people and I have only to look out the window to get my full dose of vitamin D!
However, nothing good comes without consequence. I still paid a price.
In exchange of eliminating winters, I gave up morning coffee with mom while watching the Berners frolic in the snow. For the chance to escape possibly malignant residents and attendings, I can't spend a day off casually studying with O, my non-blood-related sister, venting about the above mentioned unmentionables. Essentially, I gave up one family for another, geographically.
Still, over my unwise years I have learned that if you want to keep something, you hold onto it, and if you want it to wash away you simply walk along the shore in another direction. This time, I will not wander in naive complacency as I am ought to do. Not making a choice to do something or other is, in actuality, indeed making a choice against that thing... only slightly more passively and unconsciously. If you want something you have to act on it, or it will pass you by as much as you pass it by - and then who is the branch floating out to sea? In the age of mobile phones, computers, planes and Skype, I'm sure I can create some sort of active communication with those I love and always want to keep near. I was never a phone person when it came to obligatory calls for the sake of a relationship. Somehow now, it no longer feels obligatory. It feels essential.
So here's to a new beginning, not forgetting the last chapters - only folding them into the new ones and adding to the well worn creases in the pages.