What Am I Doing?

I've been staring at this screen for about three days.

You ever have that slight panic that you should be doing something else that's "more important"? Or that you've spent enough time on something that it should be "amazing" or "worth" all the thought and stress you've put into it? I'm sort of feeling like that about every little thing in my life.

I've always been ambitious. A Slytherin through and through. Always knew what I wanted and made all the steps necessary to get me there. Always had a plan, always thought I knew what my life would look like x years into the future.

But here I am. The last few months of my twenties and I'm looking around like that gif of John Travolta in Pulp Fiction (complete with an unattractive low pony).

I'm twenty nine. Recently diagnosed with obsessive compulsive disorder. Fur mom to a precious pup and the cuddliest cat. Wife to the most handsome hypochondriac with a man bun that puts my low pony to shame. I've been the breadwinner for the seven years of our marriage while my husband figured out his path and earned his degree and HERE WE ARE. On the cusp of the next chapter of our lives.

And it looks different. In all honesty, when we moved back to Savannah five years ago, I fully expected hubby to get his degree, me get some professional experience in my field, and us to move on our merry way to Virginia to settle down with my extended family of cousins and aunts and uncles and grandparents. I could see it all. But alas.

We spent time dragging our feet, letting life take over, and I'll admit, taking longer on this part of the process than I thought we would. That whole "be pregnant by 30" ain't happenin'. Factor in two hurricanes, three job changes, two mental health programs, and lots of bags of Flamin' Hot Cheetos and here we are now: furiously searching for jobs in Maine and packing up a house despite not having heard back from any of the apartments we've applied for. Am I starting to panic?

Naaaaaaaah.

But you know what. I'm so flippin' excited. I'm refreshing my email every ten minutes wondering if this will be the moment I hear back from my next work family. Wondering if this is the day we hear back about our new home. Wondering if all my time scouring Pinterest for "tiny apartment organization ideas" will be put to good use.

Do I know how to use Facebook Marketplace to try and sell all the crap we have to get rid of? Nope. Do I have enough boxes to pack up the obscene amount of books I own? Sure don't. Do I have the patience to wait gracefully while I wait for plans to solidify and things to become clearer? Haha girl no. But we're here.

Things don't look like I thought they would when I pictured us on the cusp of "settling down". Gained more weight than I'd like, living in an apartment in a rougher part of town than I imagined, more diagnoses that I don't quite understand yet, relying more heavily on my parents than I feel like I should, and moving a liiiiiittle further north than Virginia.

But here's what looks better: I have a hubby who is confident in himself and his skills and has worked the better part of a decade for his degree. I have a puppy who wants to kiss you on the mouth all day long. I have a cat whom we adopted from Mary Poppins. I'm surrounded by books and stories and am encouraged daily to create. I have an incredible family of supporters, encouragers, and just plain fantastic people. I'm working with an editor on my debut YA novel. I have a Savior who is faithful. So I will be faithful too. I'll pack up my life, drive 17 hours up the coast with my little zoo, and continue building a life I love.

This fall, I will get to see the leaves change for the first time in my life. I'm an October baby and I'll be able to ring in this new decade of my life, my thirties, watching this glorious change light up the landscape of Maine in fiery reds and oranges. Just like I plan to do. Can I picture where I'll be living? Not yet. Do I have a job yet? Um... not quite. But maybe that's okay. Maybe I'm not supposed to yet. Maybe I'm supposed to take a deep breath, close my eyes, and picture those crisp autumn leaves.

Change can be beautiful.

And I can't wait to see it.