Misstropolis

Monday, March 12, 2007

Trade Offs

by Maxine Effenson Chuck

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When I first contemplated returning to a full-time, out-of-the-house job after being a freelance writer and editor for 16 years, I couldn’t even utter the thought aloud. If I actually said it, I’d have to act, and acting meant beginning the search, and searching meant committing. I could NOT say this out loud.

Once in my mind though, it consumed me. What would this really mean? Giving up my flexibility. Reporting to a boss. Leaving home every day. Sharing a restroom! It would also mean a steady paycheck. Paid sick leave. Paid vacations. Health insurance. Dental insurance. A pension plan. I would no longer have to search for work during slow times; I’d no longer have to work nights and weekends. I’d be able to separate work and home. Those were the trade-offs.

My husband is a marketing consultant. Read: no benefits, subject to economic fluctuations, not much security. He was also considering a change, reevaluating what he wanted to do. Read: even less security. So my motivation for wanting to reenter the workforce was not about “Hmm. I’m bored. I’m middle-aged. What can I do NOW?” My going back to work would be our homeland security.

I was also ready for a change. After doing the same thing for almost 17 years, I was no longer challenged professionally. I felt like I was on autopilot. And though I loved the flexibility of working at home, I missed the congeniality of the office environment.

But the change I was contemplating would be dramatic. My husband and I had worked in our house, together, for our entire marriage. Every day we walked our dog together. Every day I nagged him about something or other.  Now I’d have to nag remotely. I worried about telling my then-12-year old daughter what I was thinking about. How would she react? Would she feel abandoned?  “Cool. What kind of job are you looking for?” She didn’t feel abandoned.

The time between thinking about getting a full-time job and actually getting one was remarkably brief – about a month. All I had to do was mention the thought to a couple clients. Leads led to interviews, and interviews led to an immediate offer, which I accepted. So I didn’t have time to obsess about the details – like, when would I work out? what would I eat for lunch? what would I wear? That would all work itself out.

And so it has. More or less. I’ve been at my job for 15 months. Yes, I’ve had an excuse to buy an entirely new wardrobe; my husband now does all the carpooling; and when I get home from work, he has dinner on the table. It’s all good. But what I wouldn’t do some days to be back in my cozy third-floor office, wearing my big, baggy Red Sox sweatshirt, with my dog at my feet and my cat on my lap. Those are the trade-offs.