Every late fall, I start thinking about making big changes. It’s almost like a ritual for me. This year, moving has been on my mind again. Years ago, I came up with a plan: slowly head west, city by city, spending about two years in each place. The idea was to experience different regions through all their seasons, then, by my 50s—rapidly approaching—settle in the place that feels like home. Somewhere like Arizona or Colorado.
I grew up in Southeast Missouri and stayed there until I was 36. My first big move was to Jonesboro, Arkansas. I enjoyed my time there and ended up staying for four years. If not for COVID and those grueling 60+ hour workweeks, I might still be there. But life pushed me forward, and I landed in Northwest Arkansas, where I am now.
Northwest Arkansas has a lot to offer, and I genuinely like it here. But the cost of living has been climbing as the area grows in popularity. Add to that my dissatisfaction with my job, and I’ve been thinking it might be time to move again.
I’ve been researching all kinds of places—Topeka, Kansas, with its affordable housing and ample warehouse jobs, to more unconventional options like Las Vegas or Southern California. Each place has its pros and cons. Still, I might stay put until the weather warms up. Winter always messes with my mood, likely because of Seasonal Affective Disorder. It’s hard to tell if these thoughts of change are permanent or just my winter blues talking.
One big factor driving my restlessness is work. I don’t hate my current job, but I find myself missing my previous employer. The company I’m with now is much larger, but that doesn’t translate to better treatment of employees. In fact, it’s the opposite. Both my past and current employers are Fortune 500 companies, but the difference in how they treat people is night and day.
At my old job, there was a culture of positive reinforcement. Exceeding goals meant rewards—gift cards, bonuses, and recognition. It wasn’t just about money; it was about feeling appreciated. Here, it’s the complete opposite. I’ve overheard managers saying they won’t compliment my performance because they don’t want me to “get a big head.” Imagine that—actively withholding praise.
Despite this, I continue to overperform, but I do it for myself. Setting personal goals keeps the day moving. If I aimed for just the bare minimum, I’d be counting the seconds until the clock ran out. Unfortunately, at this job, there’s zero incentive for going above and beyond. Meanwhile, I watch underperforming coworkers get rewarded simply because they’re good at sucking up to management.
The lack of recognition and the toxic work environment have worn me down. Couple that with the restrictions on overtime—it’s almost impossible to get more than 40 hours here—and the pay just doesn’t add up to what I made before. My last job expected 40–50 hour weeks, and while it was demanding, the extra pay made it worthwhile.
It’s hard not to compare the two, and my previous employer wins in every category: fairness, benefits, and opportunities for advancement. The current place? It’s all about politics and popularity contests. That’s not me. I've never played the ass-kissing game, and I won’t start now.
Topeka, Kansas, wasn’t even on my radar until recently, but both my current and former employers have warehouses there. The lower rent is appealing, and the idea of a fresh start is tempting. My lease here doesn’t expire for another seven months, so I have time to decide.
For now, I’m stuck in limbo, weighing my options. Maybe I’ll stay. Maybe I’ll go. But one thing’s for sure: it feels like it’s time for a change.
