…is bittersweet. I couldn’t help tearing up as I walked through, for the last time, the house that’s been such a good home to us for the past seven years. When we bought it (back in 2007, at the worst possible time), our careers were mere infants, and real infants had yet to be conceived. I get so sentimental thinking that this is the house that our babies were born into, and the site of so many cherished memories.
I’m excited about the prospect of moving to a new city and embarking on new adventures, but sad to be leaving friends, neighbors, and colleagues who have made living in Las Vegas so wonderful. I’m also terrified at the prospect of returning to work. I know I should be grateful that I had an entire year to spend as I chose, and I am truly very grateful, but I still can’t help worrying about things like brain atrophy and sleep deprivation.
I don’t know what will happen to this blog. Maybe I’ll continue to post updates once in a while but I certainly can’t say I’m blogging about “Adventures in doing whatever the hell I feel like.” Working at a law firm is probably the opposite of that: you have to do what you’re supposed to, what’s expected of you; do as you’re told by clients, supervisors, management. So why am I returning to a life of discipline, sacrifice, and toil? Because anything worthwhile in life takes discipline, sacrifice, and toil. Over the course of my sabbatical I thought I would have some huge epiphany about the meaning and purpose of life, but I didn’t learn anything that most people don’t already know. Appreciate the small pleasures. It’s about the journey, not the destination. Family means everything. I felt like I was traveling the globe in search of something that was missing, but I had everything I needed because my husband and children were with me. I’ve had the ingredients for happiness all along.