Often we find ourselves asking that question. I have said for over a decade that I want to be a writer. So what’s the problem? How have I let a decade past before giving it true effort? Before trying to make my dreams come true? Oh, that’s what happened: a career.
Rewind back a decade. A single mom, working two or three jobs at once, going to school online and trying to stay financially afloat. I put all my eggs into one basket, took a leap of faith, walked away from two of my three jobs at the time and began working full-time as a jewelry consultant in our local mall.
I was with a good manager that told me I could sell. I didn’t really believe him, but I went with it. We worked well together. Soon I was beating his numbers, became Assistant Manager. The money was almost enough, I made it work. Soon after that another store in our district needed a manager. This store was closer to my manager’s house then our store was. He wanted that store, I wanted our store. I still remember the meeting with the VP of the company. I sold him that I was already running the store and I that deserved the store.
At the time for where I was in life, the money was decent. At first the time away from home didn’t bother me too much. My second year as manager I won the coveted Manager of the Year award. I felt good. Money was decent. Time away from home was beginning to wear on me a little bit but I knew I just had to keep on keeping on and do what I had to do. I got recruited away. Now I was making great money. Bonuses were real, commission was real, so was my commute. Driving 50 minutes door to door and this company socked it to me when it came time for holidays. I remember working 18 days in a row in December, having one day off for Christmas and then being right back there the next morning for “after Christmas traffic”. My quality of life was starting to stink. My daughter was growing up and I was missing it. Mandatory closing shifts two nights a week and mandatory Saturdays were part of my weekly schedule. They did allow Sundays off and I appreciated that and felt like I had half of a weekend.
My old store opened back up with Management opportunities and I was heavily recruited back. They matched my salary and I thought it was a great chance to get back to Bloomington and cut my commute back to normal. I worked twelve days in a row my first December back. I had my two mandatory closing shifts through the week, every Saturday and every-other Sunday, forty-seven hours minimum a week.
My daughter turned fifteen. She grew taller than me. When did this happen? It happened while she was either with my mom or her dad, while I was at work.
My 11-year-old Dachshund had a stroke and lost all mobility in her paws in June. She almost died. We said our goodbyes to her. She was with the vet for two nights. I thought back to my dead “writing career” I had dreamed of earlier in life. I had written five children’s stories about Daisy the Dachshund and had not touched them in over a decade. I had managed to write two short articles for Hubpages in 2011 and that was it. That was it. And that was seven years ago. I had not had time for one of my favorite passions for seven years. I had been so consumed and sucked up into this retail management career thing that I had not done anything else. I mean, my house was clean and I had a decent relationship with my daughter but I suddenly realized I’d done nothing for myself except climb up the ladder. I’m not at the top of the ladder, but do I want to go up any further?
I decided I wanted off the ladder. I longed for normal weekends and a decent schedule. I felt I had three years left with my only child and knew she deserved a mother. I had stopped feeling like a mother. I had skipped concerts and parties and open houses and volunteering because I had to be at work and I was suddenly realized all the years that I had missed, all the time I would never get back. I had worked around the clock making the holidays special for others and then ultimately beginning to hate them, as I knew my work/life balance would struggle. My heart broke at the thought of losing the past decade or so. I knew something had to change.
I put some “feelers” out there. I applied with an engineering company in the county next door but then remembered that I would be going back to commuting (well over fifty minutes one way). I was having a pool day with a good friend who’d waited tables at the same restaurant for four years. She mentioned they needed someone full-time, day shift, Monday – Friday. Go back to serving? Me? I’m in Management.
I applied. Went on vacation, did some soul searching. Talked to family and friends. There was a mixed reaction. Some said they understood, others confused I would be willing to go back to being “just a waitress”. I fought with myself, cried over the decision and then decided to take another leap of faith and see if I could step down and be a part-time associate while waiting tables full-time.
Instantly I was relieved. Not only would this give me more time with my daughter, but it would also free up time to get back to my passion – writing. My boss wasn’t thrilled but when I told him it was time for my daughter to have a mother – the rebuttals stopped. I think he understood. I simply could not be what they needed nor could they be what I needed.
The week before I stepped down I was home alone in my beautiful country home for four nights in a row due to my work schedule. I did have three wonderful dogs keeping me company, but I did not buy this house for them. What is the point in working to have things to enjoy if you don’t have time to enjoy them? Life is too short to be consumed by work. Children grow up fast and life doesn’t stop moving. We only get one chance at it. Make sure you are not slaving your life away for the wrong reasons. I am off the ladder and ready to be at home with less stress for this chapter of my life. I cannot wait to see how it reads.
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