Two years-ish

Somewhere around two years ago, I worked my last day at Vanguard. Fifteen years of meetings and projects and goals and writing and more meetings and more drafts and rounds and rounds of edits--it all seems very far away now. In the intervening two years, I’ve:

Moved to an apartment David rented in County Down with a dog and two cats.

Looked at a few dozen houses and put in bids on three, bought one, moved in.

Took my theory and practical test to get a driver’s license. Northern Ireland’s test is so hard that 40% of adults in Belfast don’t drive.

Did a master’s degree in law, including a 17,350-word dissertation.

Fixed up an old house, sanded floors, painted walls, bought furniture, rugs, and light fixtures.

Wrote fund performance commentaries every quarter as a freelancer.

Made a few friends in Belfast, joined a church, a choir and two book clubs.

Hosted five guests, giving them the grand tour of our wee town.

Traveled to Portugal and Crete and driven down Ireland’s west coast.

Sent out dozens of resumes.

I have enjoyed not going to an office every day and trying to move my widget along the production line in the face of one obstacle after another. I’d say the past two years have been a lot more stressful than I would have liked--taking time off work should mean a reduction in stress, but really it meant a different kind of stress. I don’t think you can go through so many changes in your life without some handwringing.

My family moved a lot when I was a child, due to my dad’s job. As a reporter, I moved fairly frequently as well. My time in Pennsylvania--15 years--was the longest I’d lived anywhere (previous record was six years in Derry). So picking up and moving was a bit harder at 52 than in all the prior decades. Yet I’m optimistic that life will settle down and the pieces will fall in place, with time.
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