Today marks the seventeenth anniversary of my moving to Austin. I had actually been here already, visiting for two weeks, but it was Labor Day weekend that I made the official move.
At 4:00 Friday evening, B and I attached a trailer to the car and headed eastward. We drove through the night, which was miserable, and rolled into Gainesville at about 3:00 in the afternoon. B and I got all my stuff out of the storage facility, and then spent the night at my former roommate’s apartment.
Sunday morning we got an early start and made it to New Orleans early enough in the afternoon to be able to have some fun. We slept in a little on Monday before getting back in the dreaded car. Finally, we made it to Austin in the early evening and unloaded everything.
Seventeen years, and I’ve never questioned my choice to just pick up everything, drop out of grad school, and move here. At the time I had been coaching swimming at UF, but I’d let my contract expire and had declined the chance to be the head age group coach. Despite applying for several other coaching jobs, I had no other prospects lined up, so my plan was to move to Atlanta and live with my parents.
So after visiting Austin for two weeks and falling in love with the city, I figured it was time to make a leap of faith. I had money saved up and no other responsibilities. If I was going to do something completely unplanned and unexpected, this was the time.
I did temp work to start off, and volunteered as a coach for the local swim team. It wasn’t easy going, especially as I watched my savings dwindle, but things eventually worked out for the best.
Everything good in my life – my husband, our kids, our friends, my work – comes from my decision to move here. It’s been a great 17 years, and I look forward to many, many more.