That stupid John Denver song

(NOTE: These first NorthCarolinaLand posts were written long before they were published. I approximated the dates so that the timeline flows. Dave got the job, and we’ve started the moving process. Woot.)

So, I put Dave on a plane this morning to go to Mythical NorthCarolinaLand.

I didn’t ACTUALLY put him on the plane. He walked to it himself, but you know… I dropped him off, made out with him in front of the building, and drove off before he could walk in the door. I hate goodbyes. They suck, and I’m bad at them.

Anyway, he had STRICT instructions to call me every time he got on to or off of one of those fancy-schmancy flying dohickies. He did. I told him he did NOT have my permission to crash or be delayed in any way at any point. So far, he’s listened.

Tomorrow morning he interviews for what will be a life changing career opportunity. Word on the street is the job is his so long as he doesn’t “climb up on the table and shit all over the man’s folio.”*

*This is a paraphrase of something Mr. Glenn said to Dave last week.

We haven’t told anybody, mostly because we don’t want to have to go back and tell everybody if, for some incalculable reason, Dave doesn’t get the job. No reason to worry everyone.

Okay, I lie. we told his dad and stepmom. They’re excited. I told my mom and gramma. They’re excited. Hannigan (my mother – not her really name) is over the moon at the thought of us moving to Mythical NorthCarolinaLand for multiple reasons, a few of them selfish. She and Daddy can take a bike trip to visit us, and it will be gorgeous. My parents are bikers, BTB. And of course, there’s the whole totally attainable three hour trip to Washington DC aspect of the move. She’s also just really excited for Dave. I’m sure Gramma’s excited for the same reasons.

I told my boss, so she wouldn’t be totally blindsided when I walk into her office with my notice. And I told Melodie. I’m sure someone’s going to be pissed I didn’t tell him or her first, but Melodie was in the right place at the right time and I’ll need her for a reference.

So now… we wait.

Have I mentioned I’m the MOST impatient person on the planet?

It’s clinical, I swear.


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