For the last three years, I've been juggling two part-time jobs along with family life.
One job I've loved. It's everything I like about my work, minus the stresses.
The other job has been hard work, mentally and physically. For the past 12 months my days there have involved ten hour shifts, working on a skeleton staff and just having to deal with all kinds of corporation issues.
I've been driving to work and dreading arriving.
I've stopped frequently at the river, taking a few deep breaths and telling myself it will be alright, while my gut churns and my feet feel leaden.
I've stuck with it, partly because I hate giving up, and partly because my wage is crucial to our lifestyle (as simple as that may be) and also partly because I've been hoping things will turn around there. If I put in the effort, the blood, sweat and tears, this might, just might have evolved into a job which would have been more family friendly, more supportive and with a busy happy rewarding case load.
It's not going to happen.
This week, I finally accepted it, and handed in my notice.
It felt right.
I will take some deep breaths and take some time to focus on what I really want; what works for my family and most importantly, what makes me happy.
I still have my other job. The one I love. And I feel there is potential there, for me to build on what I already have, and to make it bigger, and better and brighter.
I feel ok. It'll be alright.