The holidays -- Florida style

When I decided to move to the Sunshine State, I knew things would be different. I knew I'd miss friends and family, have to start over being the "new girl," miss out on special events and fun, everyday things. In theory, I thought I'd be prepared for all of it. But reality is a little different and the holiday season is proving just how different my reality has become.

Let me go back to the beginning

Since I've already whined about it (twice), I should probably explain why and how I ended up in the Sunshine State.

This January, the higher ups at the Holland Sentinel sat everyone down to explain that to cut costs, they were moving the copy desks from all 150 papers across the county to Rockford, Illinois. They called it a Compensation Adjustment. I called it unemployment.

Sometimes being a big kid sucks

I never knew I could feel so guilty about doing the right thing.

I know I'm right. My family said I'm right. My friends and my co-workers said I'm right. Then why do I have even one ounce of guilt?

Am I just jumping the gun?

Have you ever had a bad day that made you regret the decisions that put you in the situation that lead to that bad day?

I used to think a bad day was just that — a bad day. Maybe it was the universe telling me I needed to be knocked down a peg, my biweekly karma cleanse, or just the falling dominoes from running into one too many idiots that day. Whatever it was, I'd eventually get over it or it would work itself out. But ever since moving to Florida a month ago, every time I've had a bad day — three for those who are keeping track — I have ended up in tears wondering if I made the wrong decision to move. Does that ever go away?