I figured out why I continue to fret that I'm relying on magical thinking in my decision not to move to Sticksville.
It's because the whole situation -- the whole set-up -- looks so much like one of my recurring fantasies, that some time soon Everything Will Change and I'll start doing an entirely different kind of work, or I'll run away and join the circus, or I'll have the time to be a freelance philosopher, or something else equally unlikely. See for example here or here or here or here, where I talk about exactly this.
Is this why I don't worry about finding a job, even though I'm old enough that I should expect serious age discrimination? The question is based on a false premise: in fact I do worry about it. That's why I first decided to go. And I'm still worried about it: that's why I asked my mom if I could move back home with her in extremis. That won't do much good for Wife, to be fair, because if I stop earning income then I stop paying alimony. Anyway, yes I'm worried.
But some small corner of my brain -- the corner that is willing to believe in meaningful coincidences and magical timing -- does wonder if this is the time, finally?
That's a terrible reason to make a decision, of course, and I think it's not why I'm making this one. Also it might never happen that I do anything wonderful or even interesting with the freedom of unemployment: see for example my thoughts here and here. Or see any of my posts (no time to hunt them up and link them right now) about how my father pissed away his decades of "retirement," leaving behind nothing to show for any of them. That could be me too, though I surely hope it won't be.
But I have to recognize that this is one component of the conversation inside my head. For whatever that's worth.
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