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A FORK IN THE ROAD

T he Past

With Work Colleagues at Happy Hour, a few months before the move

Colleague 1: Who’s your hall pass person?

Colleague 2: I really like Alexander Skaarsgard.

Colleague 1: Oooh, good choice. He’s hot. Margaux, what about you?

Me: Me? I don’t really have one.

Colleague 2: Come on, there must be a celebrity you find attractive.

Me: (thinking about it)

Hmm… maybe Steve Peacocke back in the day, when he was in Home & Away?

Colleague 1: Let me see a picture? Oh, you like tattooed surfers, Margaux! I see you!

The Present

The days drag on, the countdown to my move looming high in my mind.

I let my work know that I’m moving, and suddenly there’s an unanticipated issue that threatens to derail my entire move.

“We’re not set up in that part of the state,” they say. “Anywhere except Sunset Cay would be fine, but you can’t move there.”

I’m gobsmacked. “But there are people who work from there now and that’s okay? I was literally in a meeting with someone working from there the other day. They’ve been there like a year, and it hasn’t been an issue.”

“Well, that’s not official. We weren’t aware of it, because they clearly didn’t follow the proper process. And we don’t want you to operate from there. It’s our prerogative as a company, Margaux. The decision is final. If you move there, you can’t work for us anymore.”

“Are you serious?” I plead. “I’ve signed a lease. The move is happening. This is so unfair!”

Meetings are held, and many very senior people advocate for me, but a couple of senior execs won’t budge on their very arbitrary decision.

I’m shocked, and there’s a part of me that feels defeated, like it might just be easier to figure things out and stay in the same city.

But I’m deeply unhappy with my work, and if I found another job here, I’d just be staying for that. The city’s great, but I’m in desperate need of a fresh start. I only moved here because of my now ex’s job limitations. Staying here is just not feasible for me.

So I crunch the numbers based on this new scenario, and I figure out that if I cash out my stock, I have enough to support myself getting set up on the island while pursuing writing full time. As scary as it is, I take it as a sign from the universe that I’m meant to make this jump. I was always planning on doing it at some stage. And after the year I’ve had, I’m ready to be out of the corporate world, and to do the work that sustains my soul .

Like it or not, ready or not, I’m about to become a full-time author much earlier than anticipated.

Over the following few weeks, my brain starts to get a little loopy.

My ex has to come back and stay at the apartment for a few days here and there. We’re amicable and respectful of each other and our belongings, but it’s awkward living in the same place as someone you’ve just broken up with.

No matter how much we avoid each other, there are little interactions that feel brutal after years of a close relationship. It’s just facts.

And weird shit keeps happening. Like, while my ex is staying over—I let him stay in the bedroom while I sleep on the very comfy couch—some guy I haven’t spoken to in literally over a decade starts blowing up my phone and calling me ‘just to say hi’. I tell him to piss off, but I’m on edge the entire time, just trying to make things okay and get through us both being here post-breakup.

And work has become awful. It’s that phase where everyone knows I’m leaving, so they’ve started excluding me from meetings. Leaving me out of conversations that might have longevity beyond my last day. So I spend a lot of time sitting here, drumming my fingers on my desk, thinking about my decision and mentally figuring out how I’m going to pack up this apartment for the move. I’m in absolute purgatory.

What I’d give to be doing something useful.

And I’d spend the time writing, but I’m in such emotional turmoil with the unexpected job loss, the move, and of course the breakup after six years, that there’s no way I could write anything remotely coherent.

So instead, I pick up my barely used roller skates, and I skate around my apartment. I watch YouTube videos to help me with my basic skills, and before long, I’m working on T-stops and transitions. Round and around the kitchen island I go, gradually getting more confident on eight wheels .

And that’s really all I do. Skate, occasionally remember to eat, feed the cats, and watch my shows. Anything to stop my mind from thinking, because right now, thinking brings only sadness and pain. And even though I have Sunset Cay to look forward to, time is dragging, and it feels like torture not being able to just move there and start the next chapter of my life.