single mom

Fit

Just over two weeks ago, I made the decision to leave my job.


After a few months of looking, a handful of interviews and a lot of time spent wringing my hands an offer landed in my lap and I leaped at the opportunity. It was different. New. It would be a challenge. And then, ten days after accepting the position, ten days after feeling a weird mix of happy and sad, excitement and terror, ten days after making up my mind another offer came in. 

When it rains it pours.

So I contemplated. And I cried. I looked at Mr. Hockey Coach and asked what I should do. I called my prof. I called my parents. I spoke to friends and colleagues and I wrote pros and cons lists and I felt sick because it was too tempting. I could go home, but I was miserable just contemplating it. So I said fuck it and I turned down that second opportunity. And a weight was lifted. But then I wondered – and I knew I would – whether it was the right decision.

I sat at a coffee shop waiting for the office to open on Monday morning, giving me time to think. I sat in the corner of the shop and watched as people shuffled past the window in the cold, as the traffic lights changed and I pondered my choice. What if I hated it? What if it wasn’t the right fit for me? But what if it was?

After leaving my second day of work today, I had the answer. 


I made the right decision. I’m the kind of happy and excited that I haven’t been in a long time. I can see the challenges before me and I can hardly make my brain shut up for long enough for me to think about anything else.  There’s something amazing about realizing that you’ve found something that fits – and yet still needs to be broken in.

Like the perfect pair of shoes.
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