Where we left off, my broken little family had ditched the giant trophy house and moved into a place where we could put the pieces back together.
Once we'd had a chance to settle in to the Sweet House, my family tried to come up with a plan for our next step, but the only thing we could all agree on was that big changes were coming. We just didn't know what they were yet.
Then, one day in February, Husband's company asked him to help with a project in San Francisco for a couple of weeks.
Two weeks after he got home (you following me? We're in March now), his boss asked him if he'd consider moving to the Bay Area permanently.
Okay. Maybe that's a possibility. And it might work for me as well. My company is based in the same area. I called my HR director and asked whether they were okay with me relocating to the Silicon Valley office. HR director was open to the idea. Okay, she was more than open to the idea. She was...enthusiastic. No, maybe giddy is a better way to describe her. I had no idea they liked me that much out there on the coast.
Three weeks later. I'm in Buenos Aires (hehehe...ain't I a sophisticated jet-setter?). I get a call from my boss in Texas. My company is closing the Texas office. Everyone gets relocated to the main office in California. We all get full relocation packages, complete with door-to-door moving vans, big bonuses, extra vacation time, and raises. Including me. I get all that stuff, even though I had already told them I was moving anyway.
I called my friend Regina from Buenos Aires to tell her the news. She sent me the following text in response.
"The universe wants you to move to California. I am not the universe."