So, twice in as many weeks, I have been offered a really cool job, that indeed would involve relocation . . .
But the problem is, I am a very expensive person to relocate - I have a lease that would need to be paid off, an husband to move, and a dog . . . not to mention my couch (my sad, sad Ikea couch). All the physical things can be stored, especially when taking a long term international gig, but I sort of need my family.
It's complicated, as you get older, and want a nice couch (mind you my couch is not nice), and a family, but it does complicate the career a bit.
I am finding that I am needing to focus my career geographically (lucky I am based in NYC, so there is some theatre there - and within 4 hours of NYC - there is a lot of theatre), but I am finding that other options I am having to turn down because the cost of relocation prices me out of the line item for stage management.
It's something to consider - me and my husband have made the decision, that after 11 months on the road out of 13, it would be better I be unemployed a bit and at home then work someplace that requires a 16 hour flight, and a visit.
I am just interested in the married / attached stage managers what sort of conversations and rules have you set up.
(BTW - my husband has been truly supportive of me, following me from Dallas to DC to NYC, and allowing me to work all over the world . . . it's just now, and funny how this works after 12 years of being together . . . we just sort of like being together more then I like doing cool jobs far, far away. He is one of the best stage manager spouses on the planet . . . which leads me to believe maybe we should form a sub-board so SOOSMS (Significant Others Of Stage Managers) . . . with great topics like "How to be supportive during a 10/12?", "What things to say to the unemployed stage manager?", "Why don't I ever see my Spouse anymore?")
In the end, there I times I wish I was 25 years old, single, and able to move to with a quick jump on a plane . . . but there are parts of my life I have now . . . I can't give up.