change

I used to think I hated change. Maybe I did. Goodness knows I had enough change as a child: my brother moved out when I was three, my dad got really sick when I was six and died when I was 13. Friends moved away - and I was never really good at making friends. There were lots of changes and lots of goodbyes.

I am going through a whole lot of change these days. The divorce is on its way to being final, I've bought a house that needs more transformation that the average resale home, and now I'm starting a new job. I told my best friend a few weeks ago that I hate change. She laughed in my face.

"But you thrive in change."

I'd never really considered that. It's true, though. The work I prefer is high-intensity and constantly changing. I am always thinking of the next reno (even in my little rented house). And I am easily bored with routine.

Tomorrow, I start a new job. The responsibilities will be essentially the same as my previous job: manager of a team of seven or eight people, in public relations, in the government. But the files are new, the people are new, the culture is new, the processes are new. And I've heard that some things could use a bit of a shakeup and reorganization. I actually got excited about that part.

But with every new thing comes a goodbye to that which it is replacing.

I had a fabulous team at my previous job. I loved them, and I think the feeling was mutual. They are a bunch of professionals who excel at their job, who care, who put in effort. They are smart and funny and kind. Every one of them. I said goodbye to them on Friday. Not a final goodbye, of course, since I'll be seeing them again for sure, and I may even work with them in the future - this is a small town, and you never know who you might work with - or for - again. But goodbye to seeing them every day, to relying on them, to having them make me look good.

I'm a bit nervous about this next step. Fingers crossed that change really is good.