Spontaneity and Change are NOT the Same

I've always been a fan of mixing things up.  I like to try new things (well except new food, which I have only recently been brave enough to branch out in) to bring more variety to life.  By very nature, I love being transient, moving from place to place and country to country.  It would seem to follow that I would also embrace change gladly, but I don't.

The truth is, that while I get the itch to change scenery every few years, I'm mostly a creature of habit.  I like my morning routines and knowing what I need to do to make things run smoothly at work. Every time I establish myself in a new venue, I quickly come up with a pattern to organize my days, and I generally stick with it, varying things only after considerable contemplation.

The thing that throws me off the most, however, is when the people I work with change.  New teachers always challenged me until I knew what they were looking for and how to achieve the best results.  New students at Winfield alway took a while to understand, especially when I had not anticipated a change.  When babies or staff at Mother's Choice would move on, I was always left with a tumult of emotions, which was ultimately the reason I moved on as well.

These days I have to deal with postal customers closing their boxes, or office staff moving on to new jobs and being replaced by new mail droppers.  It always messes me up, and leaves me feeling like I've lost something, despite the fact that I typically only see them for a few minutes every week.

When I have been prepared for a change, I can generally manage to accept it with a certain level of understanding, but when a major switch up takes place without previous knowledge it is far more difficult to manage.  About a week ago the woman who has been the manager at our local Plaid Pantry since we arrived in the US a little over four years ago, has been replaced.  I don't know the circumstances, but I have been hugely distressed by this disruption to my regular life. She was there the first morning I walked my husband down to see the store where I used to buy candy as a child visiting my grandparents.  She was there every weekday morning for whatever little thing I needed to pick up, and frequently at other times when new people needed to be trained, or needed an unexpected break.  She was always friendly, and practiced the sort of customer service I seek to offer as well.  In short, she cared.  She remembered purchases, as well as the little bits of life that we shared back and forth.  

We are out of town a lot, and it has been difficult to get to know people in the neighborhood, let alone in the town in general.  I always appreciated the fact that, if I needed to see a smiling face I could walk down to the Plaid and share a moment of my day with Rachel.  I even brought her cookies at Christmas time, which in my busy holiday season really says something.

I haven't been brave enough to push and ask why she no longer works there.  I am hoping she has a new, better job, closer to where she lives.  I know that change is a part of life, and that the cranky grandma who now manages the place is not responsible for what feels like an injustice, but, suffice it to say, change is really not always my thing.