I think Iím ready for a change. The trouble is, I donít know exactly what I want to change, or how, or even why.
Change my job? Not now! Not when Iím just starting to see the promise of eighteen years of loyalty and hard work becoming reality. Writing me into the partnership that owns The Kennel might have been a way to keep me working a little harder for a little longer, but it includes its own reward, assuming I live long enough to collect it. It might be only an illusion of security, but thatís a whole lot more than Iíve ever had before.
Maybe I could change the way I do my job, though. I know I could do better at time management, and I could catch up on my filing and try to stay better organized. That would make things a little better around here, but itís really not the change I had in mind.
Change where I live? No way! Not unless I have to, because this is the place Iíve been wanting all my life. Itís safe, itís secluded, and best of all itís quiet. Iíve lived in apartments in town, and Iíd be devastated if I had to go back to that situation. I have a place in the country that I can afford, a place where nobody looks over my shoulder (or peeks in my blinds). I wouldnít trade that for a deluxe apartment in the sky.
Maybe I could rearrange the furniture, though. I could surely keep the house less cluttered and better organized. Iím too deep in debt to think about new stuff, but I can get a lot of mileage out of the old stuff, and I wouldnít get tired of it as easily if I could just be a little more creative about the way I use the space Iím in. Still, thatís not exactly the change I thought I needed when I started thinking about this.