There are times in life when you literally need to have work in order to live. And there are times when you need to leave work to enjoy what you're living.
The other day The Lad started a job which we all hoped would become a lifelong career. On his sixth day, he quit.
I am so unbelieveably proud.
On the surface he did really, really well. Passed all the tests with nearly 100% marks, but he hated it. I've only seen him cry maybe three times in the seven years I've known him and the other day was one of them.
Choosing to be happy, but unemployed is a severe risk and not one that he took lightly. We will struggle, and I'm terrified of preparing for Christmas and the winter bills now, but I'm also hopeful we'll be okay.
At the end of everything, there's still hope.