About this time last year, I’d made up my mind to leave my job.  I wasn’t happy in my work and I felt it was time to figure out how to make money for myself rather than for someone else.  Then a crazy thing happened. I was asked what they needed so I wouldn’t resign.  I gave them my terms, they agreed to my terms and I decided to stay.

I had a lot of grand plans for the year.  I went from a 40 hour work week to a 30 hour work week and I thought with those ten hours, I could build a freelance business and transition to that job on my own timetable.

I imagined nothing would fill up that extra time aside from being a writer.  I imagined that I could keep myself motivated to follow an ambitious blog schedule. I imagined that I could somehow be an (almost) full-time worker and a carve a path to consistent freelance work at the same time.

And over the course of the year, I lost my way.  There were changes at work, challenges at home and it seemed a lot easier to just remain as I was.  I hadn’t given up on my lofty goal.  I’d just postponed it.

Since I’d eliminated the parts of my job I hated, I was much more content at work.  That meant I didn’t feel the same drive to get away from my job.  The job was good.  The people were good.  It was all good enough.

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