Turns out, SisterKaty is moving sooner than we thought.

In psychology 101, a class that I took at the age of 18, I learned about the term “precipitating factor.” As my psychology professor explained it to me, the precipitating factor is the medical/mental/scientific equivalent of the saying “the straw that broke the camel’s back.” Because I was already really fond of the “straw that broke the camel’s back” principle when I learned about “precipitating factor,” it really stuck with me. For years I’ve been going around telling people to feel better about X, the rash decision they made as a result of Y, even though Y was insignificant in the big picture. It’s okay, I tell them, because Y was just The Precipitating Factor.
This makes them feel better on two levels: not only am I validating their rash and life altering decision, I am also using scientific terminology, and scientific terminology can not be argued with.

So when SisterKaty called me the other day and announced that she’d quit her job because of a miscommunication, I did not freak out. Instead I said, “hey! it’s cool! no worries. You didn’t quit because of this miscommunication. You quit because you worked with a bunch of assholeish snot-nosed brats and bosses that didn’t love you, and who deserve to be left to wallow in their own misery! The miscommunication was juuuuust the (and you can say it with me if you want…) Precipitating Factor.”

Besides, she had the foresight to at least call her old boss and get her old job back.  That’s what I call good planning.  I guess a little bit of her old and boring sister has rubbed off on her during the year she spent living under my wings. 

So tomorrow, Zack and I are officially losing our tenant.  Katy, after having just moved all her belongings about 3 weeks ago, is moving them again this Friday.  Back to Garland, where her friends are still cool, where her old bosses still think of her as their darling-favorite, and where she will no longer have once-every-two-week dates with me to go eat sushi.

My contrasting emotions here are namely sadness and happiness, pure and simple.  Sad that she won’t be here, sad that we won’t be sister allies, a team that can not lose an argument in this household when employing a majority-rule argument settlement. Sad that I won’t get to listen to her day-to-day stories, or be involved in her life in such a tangible way. I’m happy, though, that she is moving back to a place where her work will be happier, easier, and where she will be appreciated for the stellar and dedicated employee that she is.  Happy that when she goes back she will, at long last, officially resume her relationship with The Best Thing That Has Ever Happened To Her In All Caps.

Mostly I’m happy for her because she is starting to lead a character driven life.  In her 21 years, her decisions have mostly been plot driven.  She went to school, got a job, and settled in.  When she decided she wanted to move out, and there was a large space in my home available to her, she took it.  She didn’t move in with me because it was her #1 choice of places to live, or because she was just dying to see what married life was like first-hand.  It was easy, and she’s resistant to change, so she did what felt natural and familiar: living with her sister.  Now she’s taking a step out.  She left a job by her own choice.  She is moving in with a friend, one with whom she’s never lived before, and she’s committing to a relationship in a way that I’ve never seen her commit before.  She’s making choices, the choices that she wants, not just the choices that are most convenient.  Character driven.  Self made decisions, and self made reprocussions, she’s down for whatever.  So for that I’m thrilled.  So even though she’s leaving me, from my perspective of the pseudo-parent/best friend/older sister, there’s nothing that could be better.