I quit my job, the one where I’ve been writing and editing for the website That’s Fit. It’s a bold move, I know, but in order to practice what I preach, I had to do it. You see, I tell people all the time — especially cancer survivors — that stress can really muck up the body, and anyone who’s been given a second chance at life (like me) should really try to stay as healthy as possible.
So here I’ve been, working way too many hours and virtually drowning in my workload. In theory, the job was ideal: Work in the morning while my boys are in school, spend care-free afternoons and evenings together and then do a little more work after putting them to bed. Essentially, my children would be totally not affected by my work. I’d still be a stay-at-home mom, with a little job on the side. Gosh, that would have been nice. But it didn’t happen that way. I mean, it started out OK, but then my job turned into a completely different monster. That chatty diet and fitness blog that allowed for flexible mommy schedules morphed into something much more deadline-driven. It’s turning into a newsroom, which is great for folks who like newsrooms, but frankly, there’s someplace I’d rather be.
I’d rather be playing in the front yard, watching my boys hunt for bugs, instead of on the porch steps, balancing a laptop on my legs and peeking at them in between e-mails and edits. I want to be volunteering in their classrooms and going on field trips, not picking and choosing what I can do because I’ll feel guilty if I take too much time off. I want to be watching Joey play baseball without my cell phone beeping in the bleachers, and when Danny says, “Mom, look at this!” I want to go running, instead of responding with my canned, “in a minute.” I mostly want to look back years from now and know I soaked up every second of Joey and Danny. I want no regrets. And at the pace I’d been keeping, regrets were inevitable.
This has not been an easy decision to make. For one, I’d gotten pretty greedy about the money that was rolling into our bank account — it’s allowed for a nice cushion, a lot of out-to-eats and a few pricey weekend vacations. Plus, I really, really like writing and editing, and I’ve met some great people whose paths I won’t cross as often as I’d like. And honestly, the time I’m getting back by quitting my job is going to be too much — I like a schedule, a purpose, some responsibility. That’s why I’ll search for something else. Not sure what, but I’ll find something that better suits my needs. First, though, I think I’ll read a book (for pleasure!) and attend my kids’ school functions, update some scrapbooks and let my insides settle down for a bit. Then maybe I’ll take 8-year-old Joey’s advice: “Just get a job at a car dealership and be done with it,” he said after spotting me upset about my job one day. He’s all about cars and shoes lately, so maybe he’s onto something, who knows. What I do know is that he’s aware that my job has gotten out of hand, and that’s reason enough to bid farewell to the stress of it all.
So, goodbye That’s Fit.
And, hello happier me.