Thu 16 Nov 2006
I was sitting with my colleagues last night, eating a late dinner. For some of us, including me that day, it was the first real, hot meal. The conversation was slow, as usual only briefly touching subjects related to the company.
I took some pictures and it was then when it struck me, that five men dinning together is a sad sight indeed. All of those present should be at this hour with their wives and families. One of the guys has two kids – they get to see him on weekends. If everything goes well.
I was missing the woman I love that night. I wonder why they don’t? Or maybe they do? If it works out for us I don’t want to lead this kind of life. It probably looks exciting on the outside, but in all reality it is just tiring and lonely. I can get tired, I can work hard, but want to be close to the one I love every day – not just on some weekends. And if I ever will be a father I will do everything to give my kids the attention they deserve and spend quality time with them.
There is nothing that is worth being a “weekend husband” or “weekend father”. No business is worth it. And surely no job – work for someone else’s business – is worth it. I think it might be better to be a bit poorer but loved and happy than rich and lonely or in a cold, detached relationship. Isn’t loving and being loved all that ultimately matters?
November 18th, 2006 at 17:27
For most of our marriage, I made more than my husband, and was the one working scary hours and stressing over work. When that shifted in 2002, something clicked inside my head, and I realized I wasn’t happy, and we never saw each other when we were awake. This was what gave him the confidence to transfer to Texas in 2004.
For the first year here, I worked from home, but the company I was working for changed direction. In November, bored and just a little stressed for money, I applied for corporate mortgage jobs, even though all my experience was in mortgage brokerages. By December I was employed at a BIG Financial Company, and by February I was one of their top producers.
But I felt trapped. A year of working from home had spoiled me. While the money was great, it was NOT worth the trade in hours and autonomy. And when I joined an improv troupe in May, I only got more restless.
So I quit. I took a month off to rest. Money’s a little tight right now because my freelance writing is just beginning to be lucrative, but it won’t be, and working at home saves us so much money – we’re not eating out every night, the dogs aren’t destructive, and we spend more time together, because I can shift my hours to his.
We may never be rich. But we’re content….and I think that’s better.
(P.S. Thanks for stopping by my blog.)