Moving and Unemployment Update
I can't believe it's nearing the end of September already. As usual, it's been awhile since I've written in this journal. I really did intend to write in it more often, if for no other reason than for the writing practice (which I definitely need), but I think I've dreaded writing lately since all my writing for the last several years has been academic writing.
I've had a lot of changes in my life lately. As I have managed to write before, I met a girl. We recently had our six month anniversary and have since then moved in together. It was more of a practical decision than anything, since my lease was up and there was no way she could continue to make house payments on her own now that she's gone back to school and started a Masters program in English. (Plus we like being together.) But I'm not used to sharing my space, and not counting sharing a room with my brother when I was 13, I've only once had a roommate previously (when Markov and I shared an apartment). This is different, though. We've already had a couple of blowup fights, and we get on each other's nerves more, but I take it as a good sign that we still like each other most of the time.
It's also been a big adjustment for Ciara. She's never had to share an apartment with anyone else, and she's never been around any other cats before, so moving in with a human she previously seemed to hate as well as with three other cats has been a huge adjustment for her. She's doing surprisingly well, though. My predictions for what would happen were (1) she would try to dominate/bully the other cats or (2) she would have a heart attack from the trauma of moving, living with a strange human, and being around three cats. Instead, she suddenly started being nice to Nicole (whom she used to hiss at, hide from, and swat at), and after spending a few days hissing at and hiding from (but not swatting at) the other cats, she calmed down, they seemed to work out their own hierarchy, and Ciara adjusted. As I write this, Ciara is resting on the back of my chair, another cat (Mittens) is resting by my feet, a third cat (Abigail) is resting on the armrest of a love seat across the room, and I hear the tag of the other cat (Fenway) rattling against the food bowl.
Nicole and I have quite a menagerie now. Mittens is her oldest cat, about 8 years old (the same age as Ciara) and our only male cat. An orange tabby cat, he's the alpha male of the bunch; the other cats defer to him. Apparently he doesn't usually like men -- he still only tolerates Nicole's dad -- but the first day I came over he crawled into my lap and fell asleep, so he seems to like me. Fenway is the next oldest of Nicole's cats. (Yes, her name is Fenway, as Nicole is an avid Red Sox fan.) A big fuzzy gray cat, she is clearly the fattest and none too bright. Nicole says she didn't know how to be a cat until Mittens took her under his wing and showed her how. For example, she used to pee on the floor next to the litter box because she'd go halfway in, feel litter under her front paws, and think it was okay to go, and she still drinks out of the water bowl by dipping her paw in and drinking out of her paw (I've never seen a cat do that before). Abigail is the youngest and spunkiest of Nicole's cats. Dark gray on her top half and white on her bottom half, she has a stubby 3-inch tail and was born blind in one eye. When Nicole first adopted her, she tried to dominate the other cats, but Mittens and Fenway shunned her. She's a shy cat (it took her awhile to warm up to me), but she's also probably the cutest, taking off running for no apparent reason and begging for attention with her tiny high-pitched mouse-squeak of a meow. Now we've added Ciara to this bunch, my 8 year old but still very energetic and slender spunky black cat ("the bitch kitty," as Nicole calls her). Ciara spent a lot of time hiding from the other cats her first two weeks in the new house, but she seems to have adjusted very well and appears to have established her place as the alpha female; Abigail and Fenway defer to her, while she defers to Mittens. (I happen to find cat social dynamics fascinating -- and very cute.)
This is also my first time living in an actual house since moving out of my parents'. Well, technically it's a duplex, but it's close enough. It's a large, 2 bedroom, 2 bath duplex with an office, dining room, enormous kitchen, attached garage, and patio. We had to get rid of my futon, her couch, and a couple of other things, but it was big enough to accommodate pretty much all of my stuff.
My parents came from Indiana two weeks ago to help me move, so they met Nicole's parents for the first time. They had already gotten to know Nicole pretty well, between me talking about her, Nicole flying to Vegas after my brother's wedding to spend a long weekend with my family, and Nicole and I coming to Indiana last June to visit, and they had heard good things about her parents, but they hit it off really well. The day they met, our dads were even coincidentally wearing the same outfit (black polo shirts with khaki shorts), which was kind of funny. Right away, our parents were warm and genuinely comfortable with each other -- not just making polite conversation and being nice but seeming to actually like each other. That was nice.
The biggest news of late, though, has been my unemployment. I've never been unemployed before, but my job ended at the end of August, and I've been drawing unemployment since then. I was really worried I wouldn't find a job in this economy, especially since I now live in a small town of about 16,000 and have to drive at least 30 minutes to get to a city of any size, plus I really can't afford to be unemployed for more than a few weeks. Fortunately, I just accepted a job at The Watershed, a private residential substance abuse treatment facility in Boynton Beach about 45 minutes away. It's going to be hard work, working long hours with a difficult client population, I'll be driving 90-120 minutes a day (depending on traffic), I have to work holidays, and I won't get any vacation for six months. But I'm happy that I'm employed, and that I'm doing something in my field instead of loading boxes or waiting tables. In name, it's a postdoctoral position, but it's basically a job that I can keep until I defend my dissertation and accrue the 2000 hours of service I need post-defense in order to get licensed as a psychologist in the state of Florida, so it's a pretty good opportunity for me.
I also just got a brand new 2010 Mazda CX-7 (my first new car) after my 1993 Buick Skylark with more than 200,000 miles on it finally bit the dust, so life is pretty good for me right now.
On to finish my dissertation! (More on that soon.)
I've had a lot of changes in my life lately. As I have managed to write before, I met a girl. We recently had our six month anniversary and have since then moved in together. It was more of a practical decision than anything, since my lease was up and there was no way she could continue to make house payments on her own now that she's gone back to school and started a Masters program in English. (Plus we like being together.) But I'm not used to sharing my space, and not counting sharing a room with my brother when I was 13, I've only once had a roommate previously (when Markov and I shared an apartment). This is different, though. We've already had a couple of blowup fights, and we get on each other's nerves more, but I take it as a good sign that we still like each other most of the time.
It's also been a big adjustment for Ciara. She's never had to share an apartment with anyone else, and she's never been around any other cats before, so moving in with a human she previously seemed to hate as well as with three other cats has been a huge adjustment for her. She's doing surprisingly well, though. My predictions for what would happen were (1) she would try to dominate/bully the other cats or (2) she would have a heart attack from the trauma of moving, living with a strange human, and being around three cats. Instead, she suddenly started being nice to Nicole (whom she used to hiss at, hide from, and swat at), and after spending a few days hissing at and hiding from (but not swatting at) the other cats, she calmed down, they seemed to work out their own hierarchy, and Ciara adjusted. As I write this, Ciara is resting on the back of my chair, another cat (Mittens) is resting by my feet, a third cat (Abigail) is resting on the armrest of a love seat across the room, and I hear the tag of the other cat (Fenway) rattling against the food bowl.
Nicole and I have quite a menagerie now. Mittens is her oldest cat, about 8 years old (the same age as Ciara) and our only male cat. An orange tabby cat, he's the alpha male of the bunch; the other cats defer to him. Apparently he doesn't usually like men -- he still only tolerates Nicole's dad -- but the first day I came over he crawled into my lap and fell asleep, so he seems to like me. Fenway is the next oldest of Nicole's cats. (Yes, her name is Fenway, as Nicole is an avid Red Sox fan.) A big fuzzy gray cat, she is clearly the fattest and none too bright. Nicole says she didn't know how to be a cat until Mittens took her under his wing and showed her how. For example, she used to pee on the floor next to the litter box because she'd go halfway in, feel litter under her front paws, and think it was okay to go, and she still drinks out of the water bowl by dipping her paw in and drinking out of her paw (I've never seen a cat do that before). Abigail is the youngest and spunkiest of Nicole's cats. Dark gray on her top half and white on her bottom half, she has a stubby 3-inch tail and was born blind in one eye. When Nicole first adopted her, she tried to dominate the other cats, but Mittens and Fenway shunned her. She's a shy cat (it took her awhile to warm up to me), but she's also probably the cutest, taking off running for no apparent reason and begging for attention with her tiny high-pitched mouse-squeak of a meow. Now we've added Ciara to this bunch, my 8 year old but still very energetic and slender spunky black cat ("the bitch kitty," as Nicole calls her). Ciara spent a lot of time hiding from the other cats her first two weeks in the new house, but she seems to have adjusted very well and appears to have established her place as the alpha female; Abigail and Fenway defer to her, while she defers to Mittens. (I happen to find cat social dynamics fascinating -- and very cute.)
This is also my first time living in an actual house since moving out of my parents'. Well, technically it's a duplex, but it's close enough. It's a large, 2 bedroom, 2 bath duplex with an office, dining room, enormous kitchen, attached garage, and patio. We had to get rid of my futon, her couch, and a couple of other things, but it was big enough to accommodate pretty much all of my stuff.
My parents came from Indiana two weeks ago to help me move, so they met Nicole's parents for the first time. They had already gotten to know Nicole pretty well, between me talking about her, Nicole flying to Vegas after my brother's wedding to spend a long weekend with my family, and Nicole and I coming to Indiana last June to visit, and they had heard good things about her parents, but they hit it off really well. The day they met, our dads were even coincidentally wearing the same outfit (black polo shirts with khaki shorts), which was kind of funny. Right away, our parents were warm and genuinely comfortable with each other -- not just making polite conversation and being nice but seeming to actually like each other. That was nice.
The biggest news of late, though, has been my unemployment. I've never been unemployed before, but my job ended at the end of August, and I've been drawing unemployment since then. I was really worried I wouldn't find a job in this economy, especially since I now live in a small town of about 16,000 and have to drive at least 30 minutes to get to a city of any size, plus I really can't afford to be unemployed for more than a few weeks. Fortunately, I just accepted a job at The Watershed, a private residential substance abuse treatment facility in Boynton Beach about 45 minutes away. It's going to be hard work, working long hours with a difficult client population, I'll be driving 90-120 minutes a day (depending on traffic), I have to work holidays, and I won't get any vacation for six months. But I'm happy that I'm employed, and that I'm doing something in my field instead of loading boxes or waiting tables. In name, it's a postdoctoral position, but it's basically a job that I can keep until I defend my dissertation and accrue the 2000 hours of service I need post-defense in order to get licensed as a psychologist in the state of Florida, so it's a pretty good opportunity for me.
I also just got a brand new 2010 Mazda CX-7 (my first new car) after my 1993 Buick Skylark with more than 200,000 miles on it finally bit the dust, so life is pretty good for me right now.
On to finish my dissertation! (More on that soon.)