I changed jobs.

I know, I know, for most of you out there this is not an uncommon occurrence, and typically not for me either. But the deal is that five years ago I started this job, back when I was married, back when I was a new mom, back when I was twenty-four and still trying to figure out what it was all about.

And now, five years later, so many changes.

I lived on my own for the first time. I got divorced, I fell in love for a while, fell out of love, and back in again. I met new friends, gave up on old friends. I bought a house, I got a Dog, I watched my son get bigger every time I saw him.

And through it all, I had this same job, you know? I loved my job. It was a constant, something that was always there, always interesting, challenging, fun.

Granted, it took up a good portion of my life. I worked far too many hours far too many times. I not only physically took it home with me, but I was mentally at work all the time. Except when drunk. And if I was drinking with co-workers, I was talking shop. Ask any of them, they’ll tell you.

So recently, I decided, it’s time for a change. Even though I loved my job, I started to realize it wasn’t going anywhere. I could see that five years from now, I’d still be doing the same thing, except that in five years it wouldn’t be as interesting or fun. It was starting to be less challenging, which made me not work as hard at it, which made me start missing deadlines. I started not being in the game, not paying attention.

So I got a new one.

Same company, and everything, but different department entirely and a WAY different role. I am excited but apprehensive all at once. What if I don’t like it? What if I’m bored? What if I actually only have to work forty hours a week? What will I do with my free time? What if I’m not good at it? Did I make the right decision? Stuff like that.

I’m going to start school too. With my spare time and the raise I’m going to get, I will be starting school soon. Which should be challenge enough for everyone, I suppose.

All I know is, I cleaned out my desk this weekend and got a little misty-eyed. I sent my goodbye email today and people said some really nice things. It was nice. Five years of hard work, condensed to a few emails from people who thought I made a difference. Very nice, all things considered.

So now I’m watching tv on the couch, it’s 1:00 AM, I just took a bath, I don’t have to be to work till 9:30 tomorrow, and I’m watching a guy with cheekbones that could cut glass play guitar with his tongue. I’ve got my man next to me, my Dog on the chair, in the living room of my beautiful house, and I’m thinking to myself, how important is a job, really?

Not all THAT important. All things considered.