Things We Lost in 2016

I have this light wooden table that I use as my office workstation. I designed it somewhat in the vein of those desks at the Apple store, or in a coffee shop in Emoville, USA. It's rustic chic and sits high on top of which holds my Apple iMac. Because it’s plywood, every time I move which has been a lot in the past 3 years, Nigerian movers with no sense of moving, don’t cover it, don’t guard it, they just toss it, throw it around, smack it, and it arrives at my new home, looking filthy dirty brown, not even the rustic kind of brown. After having to shine it each and every single time I get to my destination and dealing with a lot of other moving BS in Naija (how many times can I install and uninstall my AC, please) I have come to the simple solution:

I will not move for a job again. I will not move for a job again.

I will not move to take a job in a different city just because my lover thinks it’s a great idea and a "wonderful opportunity." Then the second I move he goes off and marries the next woman he dates and takes her on some exotic vacation wherein he proposes and by the next Christmas he's clearly domesticated and a "couple." He just lured me the heck out of his way so he could do what the eff he wanted.

I will not move for a job again. Men do not move for jobs. As a matter of fact they advise against it. A woman will never take a job in a different city from her family. So why should I, single lady?

I will not move for a job again. Especially if it’s in a city that is known for being violent, and clearly lacking a social life, or some sort of life. The gyms are 10 miles apart. 

You make roots where you live. Every time I move, I uproot myself, tearing up my roots, and that means that when I return I have to carve out roots again. That takes time, it takes patience, it takes a whole lot to rebuild a network that you worked on establishing. Once you leave, you’re soon forgotten, you have to constantly remind them of your return into the ‘scene.'

I am done doing that.

Unless the job is in Palo Alto or Paris. Two wonderful cities that begin with P, I am not moving. Even then I have to be sure the job is covering relocation willingly, even then, if I happen to be with a current lover, I will not leave him to take said Palo Alto or Paris job. Said lover is coming with. This is ridiculous. If I am uprooting, so are you? Let’s both sacrifice. I am not going through this emotional torture again. I feel like Hannah in Girls when she moved to Iowa (or some place) for grad school just to come back and find Adam shacked up with Jessa, one of Hannah's best friends. One of her best friends!!! They couldn’t have written a better script. This only hurts less because this is not one of my friends, but either way, in Hannah’s case there’s hope of reconciliation with Adam, in mine…

I will simply not move for a job again.

Things We Lost in 2016 - My Waistline and My Love