Saturday, February 06, 2016

That moment when all your dreams die.

Friday, 12 February 2016. That's the day that our newly purchased car, Inspector Climate, a carful of things we need to survive, and I are supposed to drive on to the Spirit of Tasmania to start our new adventure.

You'll notice a phrase there: supposed to.

Supposed to.

See on Thursday, 4 February 2016 a rather unpleasant announcement was made: a huge majority of the jobs (like let's say 110 out of 130) in Inspector Climate's field (in the organisation that his new job is in) are gone. The government has stopped funding them (who needs to research the impacts of climate change, right? it's only a giant global problem that will impact every single person, place and thing. Sack 'em all! If this logic was applied to other major problems "We know cancer kills millions of people, and that's a problem. So let's stop studying it and carry on shall we?").

The movers come on Tuesday. Our apartment has already been rented to someone else – and the thousands of dollars that we've spent on planning this move? Oh, that's gone too.

There is a slim to none chance that this organisation could say to Inspector Climate "Oh, we'll honour your contract" (honour's an interesting choice of word...isn't it?) – but the more people we talk to, the more and more it seems like this isn't going to happen.

Our dream is crumbling and I'm not handling it well (surprise!). There go the fruit trees and puppies and kittens. There goes the house with the big kitchen and wood floors. There goes purchasing a house – the house that would be the 'only home we ever purchase.'


It feels like some one has died – and they have. Future Decoybetty and Future Inspector Climate – as we knew them, as we imagined them, are dead. And I know, trust me I know, how dramatic that sounds. But we've been working towards this new adventure for years. Gone.

I've been walking around in a fog – I smile, I occasionally laugh – and the moment I'm alone again I sob and my heart breaks yet again.

Did you know that in an animal rescue there are 44 kittens that need adopting outside of Hobart? One of them was going to be ours.

While Inspector Climate stoically goes about his day – ticking things off our enormous to do list and trying to talk to me about our future, I am a puddle of emotional exhaustion and can barely think about getting through Monday.


  1. No platitudes here. Just, "Damn, that sucks!"

  2. Oh, I'm so very sorry.
    Since I'm not currently amid the quagmire, I'll continue to hold out hope for ya . . .

  3. Oh life, how it loves to toy with us and yank our emotions to and fro. I'm thinking of both of you all and keeping some strength in reserve, just in case you need it