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Hi, I'm Chelsea! I’m on a mission to help you find joy and goodness in every day.
On this blog we talk about the big things (like chasing dreams) and the small things (like what books we're reading) because happiness comes in all sizes.
Four weeks. That’s how long lies between us and finding out what the rest of our life looks like.
That sounds a bit dramatic, and really, it is. There will be a ceremony and someone will hand Chris a box, and inside of that box will be an envelope with one of 18 cities listed inside of it-the city where we will be relocating and starting the next big part of our life. Chris will stand in a circle with all 100+ of the other med-school students in his class, and with everyone’s family and friends looking on, they will all open their boxes at the exact same time.
So yeah, a little bit dramatic.
Match Day. Everything has been leading up to this. Chris’ undergrad, applying to and choosing where to go for med-school, away rotations, long shifts at the hospital, applying and traveling and interviewing for residency spots…the last 7+ years have all come down to this. A moment that I will share with approximately 400 other people as I find out what that little box has to say about our future.
A big part of me is excited-a new city, a new house, new adventures. I’m so proud of Chris, who has worked SO hard to get here. I’m so excited for him to get to start his journey has a doctor. For him to truly get to begin his career. I’m excited to see what life will look like in our new place.
A smaller (but perhaps louder) part of me is absolutely terrified. Knowing that I could end up in a town a few hours away or a town across the whole country and not having any indication which one it’s going to be doesn’t do much to relax me, you know?
Until we find out, I’m taking comfort in the fact that the things about me that I love are moveable. I’m a wife and a blogger and a mom and a writer, and I can be those things from anywhere. There isn’t a corner of the whole world I could move to that my parents wouldn’t come visit, because I’ll have their grandchild with me. I’m trying to have tender roots (a concept I learned from my friend Yelle) that can be picked up and planted anywhere. I’m trying to remember all that stuff I said last year about learning to love the unknown.
The bottom line is this: I’m excited and I’m terrified and I’m proud and I’m sad, and in four weeks, none of that will matter, because the piece of paper on the inside of that envelope on the inside of that box is going to say what it’s going to say. To me, that is equal parts freeing and maddening.
Four weeks. Twenty-eight days. Until then, I’ll be haphazardly balancing somewhere between relaxing and enjoying the moment and wildly panicking about the upcoming news.
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