I make a big decision this week. After months of agonizing about it and going back and forth about it, somewhere in the stillness and quiet of the bedroom, my answer is there for me to take. I close my eyes. I breathe and listen to my mind whisper: It doesn’t have to mean less time with your family, less time with your son. The thought lingers, but stubborn as she can be, sleep finally rewards me.
I write the email in the morning.
Made up my mind. Better to tell you in person.
And just like that, as quickly as google tells me message sent, I’m in his office. My boss smiles at me from behind the desk, anticipating my response. When my mind, breath, and voice reach for the answer it gets stuck. I feel it wedged in the back of my throat. An army of thoughts invade, sent to remove the blockage: I’ll manage my time better. I won’t hold myself to such a high-standard. I can achieve work/life balance.
The blockage splits apart. Piece by piece the fragments slip off my tongue. “I’ll take the lead teaching position. I’ll teach full-time again.”