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It's been a while since I've posted, so just thought I'd write a bit, even though I don't have anything terribly important to say - of course, I never do so it doesn't make much difference.
Got back to Chatham around 4:30 yesterday afternoon after a lovely week at home. Had a nice Christmas - pretty uneventful, saw some family, saw some friends, ate some food. The drive back was good - took the 403 for the first time, and as I drove through Hamilton (which I didn't know I'd do and I thought I was going the wrong way) I decided I'd like to work there. It seems like an ok place (even if they do have the Tiger Cats), a heck of a lot closer to home, and they've got a relatively decent talk radio station. Then as I drove into Chatham, instead of the usual relief of being back home, I was overcome by a sense of dread. Maybe dread's not the right word - more like a wave of melancholy. Resignation. I'm fairly happy here, I love my job, I've got some good friends, but as I pulled up to my house, I realized I just don't want to be here anymore. I was telling someone over Christmas that a few of my co-workers have been teasing me that since I'm getting more involved in the community and such, I'm destined to be a lifer. I don't want to be a lifer! I don't want to live in Chatham forever. If I die here, my obituary will read "Robyn Brady of Chatham." That cannot happen.
I'm sure this will pass in a day or two once I get used to being back at work and all, but in the meantime, I'm going to check the job postings, see what's out there.
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