"Call it fate, call it karma..."

In July of 2010 I made a choice, an illogical, fairly desperate, possibly awful choice.  At the time, I was working a full time job that came with benefits, and while it didn't pay all that well, I had the opportunity to make more through commissions.  Really, given the economic climate, who could ask for anything more?

Me, apparently.

I was miserable at that job.  It was in property management, which is an industry I loathe yet was trapped in for years.  I had no respect for the people who ran the company.  And I worked in downtown L.A. -- not the hip, renovated part, the part that was a block away from skid row and the methadone clinic.  Every few months our street would be shut down by the police for something like a stabbing or a jumper.

Nicole and I had a lot of other reasons to be miserable back then, too.  The job just felt like the last straw.

So after a year at that job, I left, and took a job that was part time, no benefits, and even less money.  The Midwesterner in me couldn't believe how irresponsible I was being.  Nicole, who had seen me beaten down by this job, gave me full support to go.

Aside from the horrible decisions I've made involving relationships, this was the first time I'd really made a move based entirely upon my happiness.

Less than a year later, Nicole and I made the decision to move up to the Bay area.  It was a pretty big deal, considering our lives were fairly entrenched in Los Angeles.  But it was a move that would make Nicole happy and, ultimately, would make me happy -- besides, a happy Nicole often equals a happy Kyle.

Nicole left behind a pretty substantial career and a good amount of money.  But we made this decision to be happy.

The company I jumped ship for isn't a large multi-national corporation, but they have purchased a few other companies that still maintain their offices.  One of those offices was in the Bay area...and I happened to have been working for them, but in SoCal, this entire time.  So when I told my bosses I was leaving, they told me that I should stay, but just transfer up north.

Suddenly, this incredibly rash decision Nicole and I had made to quit our jobs and move north wasn't so rash.  I don't even know how to calculate the odds that the company I work for has an office 15 minutes from where we moved.  It's almost impossible to wrap my brain around.

Nicole was going to face an uphill battle finding work.  Most film editing jobs are in Los Angeles.  The pie in the sky, of course, was working at Pixar (or even LucasFilm).  But it could take her months to find a job, and maybe years to make the connections needed to get a job there.

But tomorrow is her first day at Pixar.

The timing was perfect; they just happened to have an opening within a month of our arrival.  Nicole loves the hell out of Pixar and loves what she does.  It's surreal, to be honest.

So perhaps Bill Murray was right.  Perhaps everything does happen for a reason.  I'm just too blown away by it all to really get beyond that.