Warning, major life change in immediate future!

I join the land of the employed in a week and a half, and I feel like I'm taking crazy pills. Only one song comes to mind when I think of my impending relocation.

"Movin' to the country, gonna eat me a lotta peaches."

Peaches may not be the actual featured fruit, but it comes damn close. I'm moving to the one place I thought I'd never want to move: away from the big city. Even the thought used to send shivers up my spine. Agoraphobia is my name, wide open spaces sure as heck ain't my game.

Big sights, big city. Couldn't imagine settling anywhere else. Didn't really want to. Kinda was scared to.

But then someone quite dear to me forced me to answer a question I'd never thought of answering. What indeed is it that I like so much about living in a big city?

Abundance of culture? Being surrounded by fame and fortune? A good Ethiopian restaurant? Or perhaps the plethora of newsworthy events? As a journalist, what a freaking gold mine.

There is something wickedly exciting in breaking a big-city story...but who ever said that you can't get the same excitement out of stuff that happens in small towns? Honestly, a journalist is probably more directly affecting the people for whom he or she writes in a smaller urban or even rural setting. You have their full(er) attention. And then I remember, damn, that's why I got into this whole business! Not because I wanted to be running around like a chicken with my head cut off to grasp some shard of a big city story that hundreds if not thousands of other media outlets have blown apart. Because there is actually a service I want to do for listeners, readers and viewers.

Turns out, as I came to this level of understanding, I am not so terrified about moving out into the granola. The anxiety attacks aren't coming so frequently anymore.

And what of the answer to the question, why the city? Well my answer was always that I function with a higher level of confidence among throngs of people moving at light speed. I ain't gonna lie...I hate being alone. Hearing people yelling at each other on the streets, honking horns and bus stops at 4 a.m. is kind of comforting in a way.

But who ever said we can always be in our comfort zones? That would be an incredible bore--even more boring than a cow town on a Saturday night.

Imminent life change, bring it on.