Winter's Evening Freedom
I started a new job this month. It's my first full-time job since I went freelance in 2004, and my first "9-to-5" since I left Ireland in 1994. It's not literally a 9-to-5 job, but it is a job that I only have to do while I'm at the office. For the first time in 17 years, my evenings and weekends are my own. I don't have to prepare any lessons, grade any papers, or do any extra translation or proofreading work to make up for a crappy salary. I don't have to run around taking on clients who want lessons late in the evening or sit up till midnight for conference calls with people in other time zones.
I enjoyed the jobs I had. I used to love teaching, and I still basically enjoy it, and I have fun translating and doing proofreading. However, I never earned enough at any of those jobs to be able to afford the evenings off: there was always work to be done. Time went on, I burned out, and the evenings got shorter and shorter.
Now, into my second week at the new job, which I already really like, I'm home and the evening's stretching free in front of me. I can do anything with these hours: I finally worked enough to earn a little freedom.
I enjoyed the jobs I had. I used to love teaching, and I still basically enjoy it, and I have fun translating and doing proofreading. However, I never earned enough at any of those jobs to be able to afford the evenings off: there was always work to be done. Time went on, I burned out, and the evenings got shorter and shorter.
Now, into my second week at the new job, which I already really like, I'm home and the evening's stretching free in front of me. I can do anything with these hours: I finally worked enough to earn a little freedom.