My husband is dying for a new job, and honestly, I don’t blame him. For the past few months, his job has become more and more stressful and I’m starting to worry about his health. He comes home after a 10 hours of frustration and is a ball of anxiety and grumpiness for most of the evening. By the time he’s unwound a bit, it’s time to go to bed.
For that reason, I’m being very supportive of his decision to start searching for a new job. He’s handed over his resume to a recruitment agency, and I’ve been scouring the ‘wanted’ ads for something hopefully close to home and within his desired price range.
Yesterday, he texts me to tell me he’s got a call from a competing company offering him a job. Its $40k more a year than he makes now… plus moving expenses. The catch? It’s a 14-hour drive from where we currently live – and it’s in the middle of nowhere.
I don’t think I could do it. To be 14-hours away from my family? From my friends? From my nieces and future nephew? I’d be in a depressive funk within weeks.
Maybe if it was a temporary contract – say a year. Maybe even two years I could survive as long as I could fly out and see my family once a month for a week. But, a permanent job in the middle of nowhere? I don’t think so.
The offer is so tempting though. With the sale of our house and having all our expenses paid for us, we would be able to get out of debt instantly and have a nice little savings account. No debt and money for a down-payment on a home where we live. Money to travel. Money to do all the things we want to do in the next year or two before we have children. It’s so tempting. But, is it worth my mental sanity? I’m pretty attached to my family… to the thrice-weekly visits with my parents. Could I survive being so far away? I know lots of people do it, but I’m not sure I can.
Sometimes I wish I was more adventurous. That I was willing to take risks. That I wasn’t such a coward.