Cue the James Brown:
In The Emperor’s New Groove, Emperor Kuzco makes everyone feel like scum because they can’t get down to their own theme song like he can. Well, suck it, Kuzco. James Brown wrote this song for me. And if I can’t have it, then I call “Saturday Night Fever” by the BeeGees.
Why am I gettin’ down to the funk? Because I’m back, baby! I had some seriously bad mojo going for a few months (okay, a few years) there, and while I refuse to be one of those “everything happens for a reason” spiritual gurus, I will say I’m glad that all the shit that did happen…happened. Why? Because it got me here to my happy place, where I could have a funky, funky long weekend, instead of just sit here in a funk.
You see, tomorrow I start my new job in a new city, and to quote my dad, I’m happier than a pig in shit. I was seriously bummed to be laid off from my last job, but the way things fell into place…well, that just never happens (especially to me). I don’t know what to do except thank my lucky stars and go in and try to be the best damn content writer you ever did see.
This reminds me of the time I got into NYU and didn’t really believe I belonged there, so I busted my ass so hard my first year because I worried the university would realize they screwed up and shouldn’t have let me in. It took a while for me to feel like I actually deserved to go to that school, and I think it might take a while for me to feel the same way about working for such a fantastic company with such a great group of people.
So you’ve got to be asking yourself right now (because this is my blog, after all, and you know how I roll): What’s the catch? I’m asking myself the same thing. I suppose the catch is that we had to pack up our whole entire house in less than a week and scramble the heck out of Salinas, moving into a room at my sister-in-law’s house in Gilroy. But you know what? That’s kind of working out too! Now we get to take our time looking for a house—or move as quickly as we want. The time table is wide open, which is ideal for house hunting. We don’t have to rush into buying a house that’s not right for us, nor do we have to let a great one pass us by.
So can you pinch me right now? Because this weekend, we enjoyed beautiful summer weather (Salinas is typically shrouded in fog for the entire summer), strolled around with our family at the mushroom festival in Morgan Hill (which only took us 15 minutes to drive to, instead of the 45 it would have taken from our old house), and barbecued in the backyard while our son ran around with his little cousin.
I’m not trying to humble brag, truly. I just want you guys to understand the giant sigh of relief that is escaping from me and Alex after we were put through hell and back. Call it karma, call it fate, call it pure chance—I don’t even care at this point. I’m just grateful. And I’m going to hang onto this feeling for as long as I can. Because Lord knows the happy times don’t always last. So when they come around, embrace them. Cherish them. Sit back and take them in. And for God’s sake, turn up the James Brown.