Sometimes...

Sometimes... I love my job. I love the adult interaction, using my brain, working out, lunches out, shopping at Trader Joe's, etc. I love feeling like my job matters in some version of the current dimension. I love the income and what it provides for my family. I love my benefits. Sometimes... I have serious fantasies about writing up a letter of resignation on a Post It Note and running away... taking my kids and husband and packing it all up and running away to the middle of nowhere- wherever that is- and being nomads that rely only on ourselves. Living "off the grid," as it where. Sometimes... I stop myself and think about Teagan's love of school. Teagan's joy in dance class. The passions that Zach will soon be developing. Things that require money. Money we wouldn't have if we didn't have my income. Sometimes... I think I could totally go without any of the extras, that we could scrimp and save and have that tight budget and cut back on unimportant things and I could stay at home and have all of those joyful moments that I hate missing out on, that I could struggle through the hard times and behavior problems and meltdowns and so on... Sometimes... It breaks my heart to even imagine choosing to put my kids in a situation where there isn't financial "security" of some sort... where there isn't money to buy lots of food, too much clothing, to spend on meals out and dance classes and private school and vacations and playsets and so on. Sometimes... I stop and take a deep breath. I look at what I have and the choices I've made to get here. I count my blessings and recognize my purpose. I breathe. I live. I stop and realize that even though Corporate America can be vastly frustrating and seemingly pointless... the things asked of me are but a blip on my map. Do it, be done with it. Once it's done, it's behind me. Breathe.