Freedom of Voice

     Today, I bought a birthday card for someone who has been in my life for a relatively short time but has gained my respect and adoration, becoming a valued friend. The front reads, "It's not where you go, but who you meet along the way." Ignoring the cheesy image of the characters from  Wizard of Oz,  I opened to the inside to see that it continued, "I'm glad our paths crossed" followed by the requisite happy birthday wishes. Wiping tears from my leaking eyes (yes, I am  that   woman  who weeps in the card aisle as I search for just the right message for that special someone), I put the card in my cart and eased on down the aisle. Mission accomplished.      I looked at the card again when I pulled in my driveway. I sat in my car for a few moments and let the words really speak to me:  it's who you meet along the way.      Although it's rare to see me skipping and singing---OK, you will NEVER see me skippi...

It finally happened. Like a rubber band that had been stretched just a little too far one too many times, my flexibility finally gave way, and I snapped.  Before you call the authorities, let me assure you I didn't snap in the she-needs-to-be-committed-before-she-hurts-someone sense.  But, I did finally reach my limits and did something I thought I wouldn't do until it was time to retire for good:  I quit my job in education. If you know me, then you know that for the past 9 years, I have been the epitome of a team-player. I don't even want to list all the things I agreed to do and the concessions I made in the name of It's What's Best for the (insert Kids, School, District here).  But, it's finally time to do what's best for me. Gasp. This change of heart makes me completely uncomfortable, like I'm the villain amongst superheroes. Many signs have led to this decision, but the final lightbulb moment literally hit me on the head. Yes, l-i-t-e-r-...