Leaving the Perfect Job

For the past 5 years I've had the Perfect Job.

Teaching piano to primary school students

In school time.

Two days a week.

In the suburb I grew up in, about 20 minutes away.

* * *

I stayed there because I loved it.

Yes, some days were better than others

(Some days I was falling asleep next to the piano

... that was before the school provided a lovely new room with a window and a view)

... but overall, I loved it.

But part of me wanted to be home more,

and have more spontaneous time on my calendar.

I would sometimes dream of Something happening

to stop me teaching at the school.

Because I was never going to give it up,

although we didn't really need the money,

because I loved it, and it was Perfect.

Last year in an effort to Slow Down I dropped to just one day a week.

This year, I stopped loving it.

I don't know why.

Maybe because a few of my long-term students left last year.

. . .

And then Something happened a few weeks ago to make me give it up.

Let's just say that school politics and policies were involved.

So ... I gave it up.

Yesterday was my last day.

And they gave me flowers.