Two years ago

Two years ago, I was so intent on pursuing publication and a dedicated writing career. Then everything changed.

Okay, “everything changed” sounds a bit morose. They were good changes, for the most part. An editing job popped up out of nowhere. Frankly, it was a miracle. I've never enjoyed working for other people. I like running the show, and I'm lucky; I got to do that for years before having my kiddos. But this job is different. It combines the nerdy fun of editing with helping people achieve their dream career. I loved it right away—I still do!—but it ate up all my time. And I ate up a ton of junk to keep myself going.

My new editing job derailed my own writing career. I lost sight of my goals and, overworked and exhausted, I consoled myself with comfort foods. Two years later, I've gained back all the baby weight I worked so hard to lose. Insert sad face.

Out with the Old

For the past two years, I have neglected my family, my health, and my own goals to help my clients achieve their dreams. By writing this, I'm not looking for pity.

I chose to work 18 hours a day.

I decided to edit until 3AM, knowing I had to get up at 7 with my kids.

I reached for the Oreos at midnight..

So, no pity party here. It's just time for a change.

I love my work. But it's making me sick. Tension headaches, chronic sleep deprivation, weight gain, and OhMyGosh the Mom Guilt. I don't want this anymore. I can't anymore.

A New Start

(I mean ANUSTART...any Arrested Development fans with me out there?!)

I'm asking the 2 of you who find this post to be my witnesses: I'm done being a workaholic. I love my job, and I'm going to give my clients my best, but after 8 hours (10 hours if it’s crazy), I'm going to stop working and live my life each day. I'm going to spend more time with my family, write for myself again, build up my passion projects, and nurture my health. Starting today.

Sorry, clients. Your dreams are important, to you and to me, and I genuinely love helping you achieve them. But I'm not willing to make myself sick for you anymore.

Sarah MadelinComment