Every night, I kneel down beside Seb’s bed and ask him what he’s going to dream about. As he ponders the question in silence, I make suggestions: “You could dream about playing an unlimited number of games at Chuck-E-Cheese. Or, how about walking through the rain forest with your best friend, Shane. Or, Seb, you could dream about stepping onto the summit of the world’s tallest mountain and afterward you could take a victory ride through the valleys on top of a bus.”
I try, but no matter my suggestion, Seb inevitably replies, “I’m going to dream about moving to Mexico!”
Well, Seb, your dream will soon come true–well, almost. Since Elia and I were married more than seven years ago, we have been talking about the potential of a move to San Diego. We certainly like the idea of living in San Diego. San Diego, where the weather is beautiful all of the time. San Diego, the paradise of Southern California. San Diego, the place we long to be. San Diego, last stop on the road to Playas de Tijuana, the home of Seb’s family. And, of course, after all that, San Diego, where the cost of living is quite high. I think we would be there now if it were not for that infamous, persistent, economic slow-down, the Latest-and-Greatest Depression.
With savings to last maybe a month without a job, our destiny was to remain in Corona, while my position as a water utility engineer was stable. Unlike many companies, this utility had zero layoffs during the past five years, and, now that I think about it, actually has never had a layoff, ever, in more than 75 years. Eventually, after working for a while and keeping my eyes peeled, I might secure lasting employment in San Diego. One can always hope.
Elia, while demanding a move, would never let me forget the one I let get away. It happened in 2008 that I had an interview at a water utility in Otay that led to a job offer, yet the timing of the opportunity was not quite right. Okay, I was only two quarters from finishing a Master of Science degree in Engineering Management at Cal Poly. Despite declining this offer, resting assured that I would be more marketable with a higher degree, the four years that followed consisted of constant job hunting. With my burgeoning resume developed at a water company serving both the San Gabriel and Cucamonga Valleys, I subsequently submitted approximately two job applications per year that merited a total of two interviews in four years, neither of which resulted in an offer, since the one that got away. Two per year may not seem like a constant job hunt, but with the bottom falling out of the land development industry, I was competing with hundreds of civil engineers of all degree of experience for a handful of advertised jobs.
Interestingly enough, if I had not stayed in night school, I would not have this opportunity that is now leading us to move. A simple school project has eventually turned into a full-time job. Over the past three years, after completing a cost model, assignments became more and more numerous and interesting, the company moved from Santa Monica to San Diego, and there we go. The movers are scheduled to arrive on Wednesday, and we are nearly packed. After a week’s grace period, I will begin work on project siting and management of a growing energy research and development firm based in San Diego. Naturally, what is most important is that Elia, Seb and Millie will be within a fifteen-minute’s drive of the beach and of countless family members.
The Meandering Sidewalk 