I wake up and the urge hits me again. The unbearable urge to pack a bag, call in sick for a month and flee. I readjust my face and bury it into the pillow and remember that i love my job, love my life really and should get up and start my day. I remove my hair from my face and remember once again that i moved back by choice, that it's a trade off and i head off to work.
I do this every day, for four and a half months now i've done this almost every day.
Is crying in the middle of a meeting from the stress a sign that maybe i don't belong in this managerial place and was more at home shopping in the cote d'azur and downing espresso's all day?