[flickr id=”6938172359″ thumbnail=”medium” overlay=”true” size=”original” group=”” align=”none”]

Sometimes we just have to admit that our best laid plans are not working. I thought that maybe I could pull off the insanity I scheduled for this semester. But, as it happens, I couldn’t.

It sure was hard to come to that realization. It felt like admitting defeat, that the woman was not stronger than the schedule.

If I were a more religious person, I might say that the convergence of many events over the course of last week was some sort of sign, a gentle smack upside the head or a plea for me to slow down and actually live.

For instance, these were all clues that perhaps I wasn’t successfully spinning all my plates in the air at once. So over the last week:

-I faced an editorial challenge with a story from the online news site I edit as part of my Graduate Assistantship. The well-written student story concerned a subject that required some fact-checking and disclosure, and that was a lot of back and forth and updates. That’s ok, though. The most accurate version is now up, and that’s the important thing.

-I had to really bring it for Reporting and Public Affairs class after the previous week’s rousing speech and discussion of expectations, and didn’t deliver. My story just wasn’t coming together, the sources were few, dull, and unhelpful. It was a mess. There were many other things due that day, and the plate slipped and came crashing onto the ground.

-Personal challenges (what, life outside grad school? crazy!) were heavy on me. For anyone who’s been there, you know how rough it can be when someone you love is very ill.

-My 25-hour-a-week internship turned part-time job at the magazine turned out to be a bad fit for my portfolio building goals and 25 hours-a-week of time that I desperately needed for class and my graduate assistantship.

I learned the hard way that if professors, friends, and family are telling you they’re concerned about you, and you feel like you’re just hanging on for dear life, you probably need to change course.

[flickr id=”6792057380″ thumbnail=”medium” overlay=”true” size=”original” group=”” align=”none”]

So I did.

Once we wrapped the issue of the magazine, I respectfully resigned my position.

I’ve never left a job after such a short time before. I agonized over the decision, weighing the pros and cons with my professors and spending nights up worrying. I even practiced resigning at the kitchen table with my woefully neglected, yet still incredibly supportive boyfriend (That’s love).

But I’m so glad I did. I feel free now! And my schedule is back to looking like this:

[flickr id=”6938172457″ thumbnail=”medium” overlay=”true” size=”original” group=”” align=”none”]

I feel like it was the best decision I could have made. I’m all for hard work, but at the end of the day, will I be happy if I roar through my degree? If I sacrifice relationships and health? Will I make the best use of my time? Probably not.

So, for now I leave you with happy pictures of some time well-spent building relationships and well, ships, at the Chicago Maritime Festival. I can still get my boat fix after all!

[flickr id=”6792057582″ thumbnail=”medium_640″ overlay=”true” size=”original” group=”” align=”none”]

[flickr id=”6792057466″ thumbnail=”medium” overlay=”true” size=”original” group=”” align=”none”]