I apologize for probably getting a song stuck in your head with this title.

March is over now, but it held some serious life changes for me. On March 5, my brother was hospitalized. He is doing better now, but it was a very frightening time. On March 14, I returned to work. I have never posted about my job in detail on this blog, as I try to keep my professional life separate and private, but those of you who know me have probably heard me talk about it often. I have been working as a marketing writer for an engineering, consulting, construction, operations firm since November 2007. It’s been the majority of my post-college career path, and it has certainly held its ups and downs. The job is a complicated one – I often joke that I am the Chandler Bing of my friends in that no one really understands what it is I do. I would prepare proposals to public companies (like a utilities company or water district) for an engineering/consulting project. The proposals would have strict instructions via an RFP (Request for Proposal) which could be hundreds of pages long with specific rules to follow. The deadlines would be anywhere from 2 weeks to 1.5 months away typically, and in my later days I would handle more than one at a time. They were all-consuming. The engineers were always busy, so getting content from them was like pulling teeth. The content I needed to write had to come from somewhere technical and getting cooperation was never easy. The instructions were usually confusing and one small error could result in our proposal being thrown out for non- compliance. The deadlines would loom and, invariably, we were not ready. Overtime would come out of no where. I had nights where I’d work at the office until dinnertime, drive home and eat with Josh and then work on my laptop until 2 or 3 a.m. and then get up and be in the office again at 8.

For a person like me–perfectionistic, exacting, brutally hard on myself–this job could be torture. At its worst, I was screamed at and blamed for failures that I had nothing to do with. At its best, I was given a promotion and sent to Sacramento for a conference. My team (the marketing group) was incredible and resourceful. We did things that would amaze anyone. That was the best part of the job. My office had a lot of negatives. Rumors were spread about me. Comments were made about my choice of clothing (not that it was inappropriate; whether it matched or was “weird”). I was at points verbally harassed and threatened publically. I was blamed for mistakes I had not committed. The job was hard enough without those abuses. The long hours and the uncertain nature of the work was mentally and emotionally taxing. I would leave most days feeling frustrated and taken advantage of.

When I became pregnant, things were at their worst. My team had suffered a 50% staff reduction and yet the workload continued the same. We were expected to do more. I know this may sound petty, but I just wished there was an acknowledgement of all we were accomplishing in spite of these changes. Instead, we were reminded how lucky we were to be employed. The stress escalated, and for me, already suffering from anxiety and the natural anxiety that comes with pregnancy, it was difficult. I had many, many sleepless nights.

Approaching my return to work was horrible. I had this beautiful child, and all I wanted to do was care for him and heck, look at him all day. Not only that, but I worried about my schedule and my time. The work-life balance was tenuous before; we had more layoffs in my absence. Would I miss my little boy’s milestones? The worst thing was that I had realized something very sad during my leave: I had returned to a person I had been before the stress–I knew how changed I was at this job and I felt like I was “back to normal.” I was happier, more pleasant to be around; I liked this person much more.

One cannot undervalue the importance of happiness. My unhappiness had seeped into all areas of my life and overtaken my personality. It was affecting my health and my relationships. In light of this, Josh and I had a lot of long talks, and he knew how anxious I was about returning.  I returned home from work that day and had another long talk. We decided that I should quit.

I am now unemployed. I have been working on a post about the choices I have and the implication of the one I made, but for now I will describe what life is life.

Blissful. Amazing. Perfect.

My job now, as it were, is to kiss my baby’s cute face and make him feel loved. I care for him and snuggle him. I take care of the house as much as I can, and I take care of my husband. I love it. He is precious and I could not imagine being apart from him or missing a moment with him.

I can always change my mind, but for now, I’m so happy that I am following my heart. I feel so fortunate to be able to stay home with him.

Now, your reward for reading this far: