I’m not really, but it kind of feels like it. To make matters even more meh, we are converging on the worst two moments of Foreign service: having our people move away AND bidding.
I mean we all know, we all KNOW, that part of this lifestyle is that we will be moving on. This really should translate to EVERYONE will be moving on, but this can’t possible all happen at once, right? So of course, at one point or another, you will be left behind. You will be the last one of your friend group still holding that glass of wine, reading the book, sitting on the playground’s bench, and your friends will no longer live in your city. They will have said goodbye, come visit, we love you! But they will not be there to chit chat about what to make for dinner or the best place for a nearby day-trip, plans for the next school break or did you see that what’s app about the market coming up this weekend? They will be dealing with home leave angst and getting the dog shots, and buying all the things at Trader Joe’s.
I get it.
Don’t get me wrong. I do love this place. I love my job. I love the people I work with. I love the projects I work on. I love love love my house and my garden. I love not having to pack or downsize (yet), and I love that we (ok, I) know what is in each cupboard and I can tell my boys exactly where to find that one thing in the kitchen that of course they can’t find because they don’t want to bend over and move things.
There’s this feeling of connection and comradery one has with the group with which they arrive to post. You become a cohort of sorts, gel during life experiences and events and incidences. You can reference events with an eye roll and eyebrow lift, you know the places the buy eggs and butter (even if not available elsewhere; share within your friend group before letting everyone else know), and you know once a week, you’ll get together just to hang out because you’ve been there, done that and it’s just what you do.
Listen, I know we aren’t the ONLY ones here. The jobs are all filled. The positions are all active. But it feels like these are not your people. Sure, they are lovely and you can laugh and chat together. These new people are nice to hang out with, and maybe even good at things your people couldn’t accomplish, but … they aren’t YOUR people.
Then slowly people start moving away. One after another, new post, new life, new assignment. In our entire foreign service career, we’ve never been the last one left. So. I’m going to do what I can to keep my motivation up. I’m going to do what I can to be a good example for my kiddos, and help them focus optimistically on what’s next. I’ll continue to wade through the needful to get it done. And I’ll slowly start to winnow away at our canned and stored food supply and go through stacks of out-grown clothes. It’s good because it gives me something to focus on. Point me in the direction of a project that needs organizing and I’m a happy girl.
You know, I think I’ll also continue to invest effort and energy into connecting with these new folks, too. I mean, I have a lot of insights to offer about this place. We’ve been here for what feels like A G E S; and it gets me back out there and in there. So project to organize + people to connect with. That’s a good thing. And then it will be our time, too, to head on out of here.
And then someone else will, sadly, be in our same position, feeling as though they are the last one standing.
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