Back to the Drawing Board in New Beginnings

I lost the house. I set up a house inspection for yesterday, and man alive did he find problems. The siding needs to be replaced; the roof needs to be reshingled, the pipes need to be refitted, the septic tank needs to be looked at, an ant infestation needs to be eliminated, and on and on and on. He went in the attic and found a fully shedded snake skin. Not that I have a phobia of snakes, but I don’t want them nesting above my bedroom.

I told my dad I was buying a house last Sunday. He didn’t pitch a fit to my surprise. He was especially supportive when I told him I would prepare a room for him, so he could visit whenever he wanted. I never thought I’d have to disappoint him by telling him I’m not buying a house. I guess I’m back to square one.

I’m not so distraught at losing the house. I get the feeling that whatever house I look at is going to have issues. This was the first house to have the problems not obvious at first sight. I’ve got to get a place of my own. I need my own home work space to start doing my CPA continuing education, so I need to find an option and follow through with it. I’m considering looking into condominiums. I want a house, and I believe a house would be preferable for all the reasons I discussed in my previous entry, but I’m wondering if a condo wouldn’t be susceptible to all the problems I’ve encountered in the houses I’ve seen. A condo would also be closer to my office, and I wouldn’t have to sink as much money into it. Being able to save that money would facilitate moving back to Athens when the opportunity arises.

Not to harp on my homesickness, but when I was reading the inspector’s report, all I could think about was how much of a nicer home I could afford if I were able to move back to Athens. That’s where I’m supposed to be; I’m sure of it. I suppose nothing’s really holding me here. With the economy what it is, positions do become available in the Athens area, though the metropolitan area of Atlanta will always have the most opportunities. Still, I could find a position there, but I’d feel bad about leaving my current job. I just don’t like working for a huge international corporation, and I can’t stand living in the area where I live. The longer I’m here, the deeper I fall into the belly of the beast. I absorb more responsibilities, and I become more critical to my team. Leaving will put a good deal of stress on them. To be fair, I don’t think I’d dislike my job as much as I do if I didn’t have to live in Atlanta. Maybe if I put in another year or so, I can negotiate a telecommute option, an idea I’ve flirted with in the past.

I also think about Paul. Paul was a roommate I had early in college. He was also a coworker; we worked as RAs in a special dorm. The dorm was the exclusive residence for gifted high school kids who had begun college a year or two early. Paul graduated and left a couple of semester before I did. He had to leave because this particular college was just a two year school, and everyone would ultimately have to transfer to a four year school to complete a bachelor’s degree. Paul moved onto his next school and hated it. He developed a close bond with a lot of those kids in the aforementioned gifted program and he really clicked with that RA position, but he wasn’t able to find his niche at his new school. When he came back to visit or we spoke on instant messenger, he went on and on about how miserable he was there and how he wanted to come back. I tried to be an understanding listener, and I tried to give some helpful advice. I suggested he look into the activities and clubs that he was interested in, like the drama club or the school’s Catholic ministry. I suggested he look for a new activity to get excited about, something he had never done before. My words bounced right off of him, and eventually he decided to transfer back.

Doing so was a mistake. There weren’t a lot of classes he could take to progress him towards his bachelor’s degree, so he could only really come back for one more semester. It was only going to solve his problem temporarily. In another semester he would absolutely be forced to leave, and the same social problems would be waiting for him at his next school. Not to mention, a lot of the students he liked so much had already left. As it turned out, transferring back cost him more money than he anticipated, and he had to drop out of school shortly thereafter. About ten years after the incident, he was able to get back into college and finish his degree, but caving to his nostalgia cost him a lot.

I wonder if I’m making Paul’s mistake, fantasizing about a promised land that in reality is no better or worse than anywhere else. There are some marked differences, namely that I can actually build a long term life in Athens, whereas Paul could only return to his old school for a few months. I can’t help myself, though. I think about being able to see the stars at night, not having to fight through a clotted artery that is Atlanta commuter traffic, and being able to buy a super nice brick house with plenty land and privacy around it.

It’s not like it’s an unattainable pipe dream, like wanting to be a professional athlete or movie star. I consider it to be a modest goal, but if it’s so modest, why have I been completely unable to make it happen? How do you know when it’s time to let a dream die and move on versus fighting for what you want more than anything?