groundhog year

In six days, we will have been in New Orleans for a year. We are only half joking when we say that it was our mid-life crisis. Some people buy expensive cars or take lovers. We cashed in everything to move to a city we loved.

I’m not going to lie. It’s been a hard year. For a while it seemed like one kick in the head after another. And I wish I could say my attitude was always positive, but I’m prone to fear and catastrophizing, and I second-guessed the decision more times than I want to admit here.

It was a risky move. Irresponsible, even. We had some money, but neither of us had a job yet last August first when we rolled into town. It was up and down in lots of ways I don’t want to go into here, but suffice it to say that I’m here again, nearing the first of August, one year later, and again I don’t have a job.

And I feel like Bill Murray in Groundhog Day. He kept having to repeat the same day over and over until he got it right.

So if this is my do-over year, I intend for this year to rock.