Down the Rabbit Hole

Ed started his new job on Monday. A real, grown-up, salary-paying, 401K contributing job. And we feel like we're living in a foreign country all of a sudden. The language of career employment is so far removed from the language of poverty and part-time minimum wage. A week ago we were comparing the price of Aldi milk to the price of Wal-Mart milk (Aldi almost always wins, FYI). We were deciding if the whole grain bread was worth the extra $.70 as opposed to the whole wheat. We were determining which fruit we were going to buy this month: apples or bananas. Bananas are much cheaper...but they spoil much more quickly. And I just don't have the time to make all that banana bread. Plus, walnuts are expensive, and what's a good loaf of banana bread without a few walnuts?

Then we woke up one day and we had fallen down the rabbit hole. Things looked different. It was fascinating, unbelievable, and a little bit frightening. And we're still reeling from the landing. Everyone sounds like the March Hare. We need a translator. Suddently we're looking over health insurance paperwork (what the hell is an HMO and why is it so expensive!?), deciding how much to put into a 401K each pay period (What does 401K stand for, anyway?) and looking at apartments that would be conveniently located between both of our jobs (What are the views like above ground?). I feel like we are living someone else's life. Like we won the lottery. Because, not only will Ed be getting paid a salary (what?!) but he really thoroughly enjoys his job. Granted, it's been three days, but so far so good.

I find myself peering around hypothetical corners in our new world, looking for the Queen of Hearts, expecting to have my head chopped off now that we have glimpsed financial security. On one hand this new job brings an enormous, long overdue sigh of relief. Ed has been dilligently, daily searching for long-term employment for at least two years. On the other hand it ushers in a fresh batch of insecurities. What happens when we move into the new, larger, more expensive apartment and start buying spinach and CDs and then Ed loses his job? Do we wait for happiness until we're certain? But how can one ever be certain of anything? We could put an arbitrary expiration date on the uncertainty: "If you still have your job in a year, then we'll be ok" and then in 13 months we could be right back where we started.

Ed and I were talking about all of this and he said: "Isn't there some quote about how the only thing we can be certain of is uncertainty?"
Me: "That's like 'the only thing to fear is fear itself'--it's crap! I'm still afraid. That's not helpful at all.
Ed: "No, it isn't helpful. But it definitely applies."

There don't seem to be many aphorisms to help us figure this one out. I think the only thing to do is jump. I have crunched the numbers. I have made the spreadsheets (yes, plural. So very many spreadsheets). And I just have this sense of inner peace about it all...which is a very unfamiliar feeling to me, so I'm still making sure it's peace and not indigestion... But so many things have been lining up in the past couple weeks that look a lot more like provision than coincidence and I feel like it would almost be rejecting a gift not to run with it. Even if I feel like I'm running with all the grace and coordination of a new-born giraffe.

Ready... (No) Set... (NO!) Go! (Umm, ok!)