Before you tell me that happiness is within, let me tell you that I know that, but I also know that there are externals that contribute to happiness. Not many of us would be happy if we were homeless, for example. Yes, that's an extreme example, but I'd take on any person who argued that life's stuff doesn't matter. So here I am. Happy and not. My insides feel okay. If they didn't, I wouldn't be able to assert with such clarity what I need. I know what I need and why I need it. I need another job.

I'm apparently remaining in the north country, a reality that's tough to accept. Okay, but I still need a new job, and this place, like Iowa, isn't teeming with possibilities. I was the top candidate for two marvelous jobs in Iowa City--job descriptions that made me drool. The first was the director of the Iowa City Foreign Relations Council. The official planner, greeter, winer and diner for all international visitors who came to Iowa City, and there are tons because of the UI Writer's Workshop. Salary: $35,000. The second was similarly attractive: Executive Director of UNIowa, the state branch of the United Nations. Fabulous job. Loved everything about the description. Salary: $28,000. And you know what? Had the Iowan in my home still wanted to go to Iowa, I would have taken one of the jobs in a heartbeat. But she had a change of heart. Problem? She likes her job.

The question is: What to do? I'm on unpaid leave next semester. Need it. I'm searching for satisfying work in the north country and trying to figure out my place here beyond SLU. I'm new to the Board of Directors of Hospice, and I LOVE the work. I love it. It's fulfilling and challenging and rewarding. Holding on and continuing with that makes me very happy. I've applied for a job for which I probably don't have a chance in hell, but, again, it's a great job--rewarding work. If that falls through then..............?

I'm very happy that we've sold our house. Yes, it's beautiful. Yes, the views are wonderful, and yes, I like it for someone else. I've never been able to stay here alone comfortably at night. When Mary's away, I'm afraid to stay here. It's dark and even though there are neighbors across the road, it's creepy. I have terrible nightmares in this house at night. I stare out at the darkness. When my mama came for what would be her last visit, she told me: "This is a beautiful place, but I wouldn't live here for anything. Too dark. Too creepy." I laughed, but I agreed, and mama wouldn't even sleep in bed alone here with us and the dogs in the house. Both my partner and I have often spoken of moving back to town. Sidewalks would be nice. Walking the dogs on sidewalks would be nice. Route 68 is not nice. I want smaller. Less yard to manage. Less and less of it all. I want to walk to the store, the P.O., the library, the farmer's market. That's a good thing. We're experienced movers if nothing else.

Even the best relationships are tough. I'm not sure I'd define this as compromise. It's a situation where someone HAS to give up something if we're to remain in the same house. That seems to be our priority, but it's hard to give up, "suck it up and deal." Looks like this is it. Maybe. All I can say is I'm disappointed and kinda sad, but, as per usual, I'll survive. Resilience is my strong suit. Later.