I had an interview yesterday—an honest-to-goodness interview for a real-life, grown-up job. The job was for a stock assessment scientist. In other words, a job requiring direct application of skills that I have learned over the past 2 and a half years--a rarity when it comes to the local job options. Well, local is a bit of a misnomer as it IS a two hour commune from my current place of residence.
The interview went well. The agency is made up of young professionals out of graduate school, just like I am. They were all very friendly and personable. The agency itself is located right in downtown. As I went to Starbucks (right on the corner!) after my interview, I thought about how awesome it would be to work downtown, with all the hubbub and energy. There is something so alluring about the image of a young woman working in a high energy environment in a high energy city. I felt like I was being filmed for a movie and wondered what song would be accompanying me as I walked briskly down the sidewalks with skyscrapers on either side of me. I had almost convinced myself that I could take this job. That it would be an awesome experience. I started dreaming about how Mr. F. could drive up Friday nights, and we could take in some local plays and concerts and dine at really nice restaurants.
And then I drove home and spent an evening with my husband. We didn’t do much. He cleaned up the kitchen; I took down the last of the Christmas decorations; I put in a couple loads of laundry. It was a nice, quiet evening at home, and I realized I would be giving this up. I would have to wake up at 4, leave the house by 4:40, and not return until 6-6:30. At which point, I would eat dinner and then get ready for bed. At most, we might have an hour or so together when both of us were awake. Most of our conversations during the week would have to be over email or on the phone.
And suddenly the job in the big city didn’t look so good. I have decided that it would be the perfect job if I were single. I could move to the city, get an apartment with a couple of girls, and have a really cool job in a really cool city where there are lots to do and lots of people to meet. I could go to one of the many single wards in the area and meet other young professionals doing the same thing. In short, it would be awesome.
If I were single.
But I am not. I am married. And to a guy that I actually like hanging out with and seeing. We actually own the place where we live (well sort of. We have a mortgage that we are paying. Is that the same thing?) Now is not the time to try to sell a place and move. My husband has a good job that he actually likes.
So the dilemma: have a cool job, or have time to spend with Mr. F.
The decision hasn’t been made. I don’t even have the job offer. Perhaps, the decision will be made for me, and I would be o.k. with that. It just started me thinking about priorities and how one sets them.
So readers, in an effort to make this blog a little more interactive, what would be the longest commute you would be willing to make given an awesome job?