Sometimes an offer comes up which sounds so good you have to say yes. I’d been in Portland for just over two years, and it was the longest I’d been in one place for about 12 years. I decided I never wanted to leave the Pacific Northwest, then I get asked “Do you want to move to London?” Well…shit…
London has been great, at times. I came from a place where the woods, coast and mountains were all a very quick drive from the city. Also, that place had woods and mountains. London is a concrete-jungle, and that’s fine, but that’s not what I need. It started to wear on me. No privacy, no space, no money. Everything is expensive. Losing a car payment and insurance was nice, but I picked up half the cost to ride in an underground tube getting breathed on twice a day…yeah, no thanks.
While I had a two-year contract, London was not everything it cracked up to be job wise. It became clear the role I was sold on was not the role they promised me. While living here has been a Hell of an experience, I didn’t move from a place I love to set my career back two years. I’ve gotten to reconnect with a lot of old friends I met in Australia, and saw some amazing places as well, and I wouldn’t trade them for the world. But if the thing I spend 50+ hours a week doing, for less money, in a place I don’t really like, what’s the point?
So why am I rambling about this? Because at the end of January I will be heading back to Portland. It’s a bit bittersweet, leaving all my friends, once again, six years later, but it’s also something I could not be more thrilled about. As the saying goes “absence makes the heart grow fonder.” Well it’s been a year, but feels like five at times. I’m organizing my flannels, working on my snide coffee critiques, and looking for the right frames for my fake glasses. See ya soon PNW!