So it's been a year now since I became my Owner people's little girl. (Actually, I think it's been a little more than a year because I can never keep up with stuff like that, and I'm too lazy to go back and try to figure it out, especially since it's not relevant here, anyway.)
A year (or so) ago, I expected this to be, hands down, the hardest thing I'd ever done. I promised myself that I would stick it out for a year, come hell or high water, and then I'd re-evaluate and decide what to do next. Ultimately, I figured that when everything went to shit, L. and I would invoke Plan Z, our nuclear option for when there's nothing else here for us which involves us getting rid of almost everything we own and taking what's left to one of the small white trash towns in the Florida panhandle that's far enough away from the beach that we could afford to live there.
Yes, I'm ashamed to admit that I went into this expecting to fail. And fail miserably.
I doubt I was the only one, though.
But I knew I had to try, to give it my best shot. That way, when the inevitable running away on my part happened, I wouldn't have anything to regret.
Along the way, I've more than once found myself looking at rental places and jobs in Florida while I was waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Strangely, it hasn't, though.
Looking back, it feels as if it's been much longer than a single year. More like fifty. I don't mean that in a bad way, though. It's just that a whole lot has changed over a fairly short period of time.
Throughout most of this time, I've kept one foot outside the door. It's a failing of mine; I always make sure to have another option open. But some time ago--three-ish months or so ago--I realized that I wanted this to work. Not in the perfunctory "oh, I need to do what I can, so that when it all goes to hell in a handbasket, I can say I did what I could and then walk away" way. But in the "I can't live without my Owner people" way.
So I waited my year like I said I was going to do. And I re-evaluated. And I'm not invoking Plan Z.
I do still want to leave *this* town, though. But instead of leaving to go farther away from my Owner people, I want to go closer to them. There are a number of factors that are interfering with this at the moment, and I want to talk to them about the whole thing pretty soon. (After My Cousin's Big Fat Redneck Wedding fiasco is over, that is. Maybe next week/weekend when I go over to visit.) It's just a little too complicated to type out in a blog. Plus, I'm kind of tired right now and would like to go to bed in a few minutes.
Anyway, I guess what I wanted to say is this: Somehow, I changed. Somehow, the little girl who was so terrified of committing to anything that she didn't even like signing year-long leases for apartments has transformed. (Well, in a sense, anyway. I still get bored way too easily and will probably never be able to "settle down" in the commonly accepted manner, but I've mellowed a lot, at least for me.)
I'm not just here for the party and ready to bail when it's too much to deal with. For the first time in my life, I guess I've actually made a commitment to something. It's a weird feeling.
So, in the end, I guess I was *kinda* right. I've made it through my year, and I've re-evaluated, and I've decided to run. Only I'm planning on running toward them instead of away from them. ;)
Also, Florida's not entirely out of the question for eternity. I'd be ok with dragging them down there with me, should I ever manage to run into the money for a cottage on the beach. :)
The Little Pet Girl Who Loves Her Owners More Than Any Other Little Pet Girl In The World