I quit my job.
My last day is Thursday.
Life was too chaotic. I was unhappy.
Three beautiful babies, a kick-ass husband, and I was unhappy. Stretched far too thin for far too long.
My writing is rusty, and terribly neglected.
That had best change, because I think I'm going to have a lot to write about on this next leg of my journey, where I throw myself into the role of domestic goddess.
Except instead of wearing heels and an apron, I'll probably be in sweats and a nursing tank. With spaghetti sauce in my hair.
I can't wait.