I have a serious love\hate relationship with my new job.
I love writing. I live it. All the stories that live in my head can come up and I can share them with other people. I love working from home. It gives me a flexible schedule that allows for me to be available when problems come up. I moved back east to be closer to my parents who needed help so that is very important to me.
But at the same time those things also bug me a little. I am a workaholic. I am very driven and goal oriented. I hate having to stop work to deal with other things, and that happens a lot when you work from home. It happens even more often when you don't have a dedicated work office. Family and friends don't seem to understand that I work at least eight hours a day, usually longer. So they think I am available to do things all the time.
They don't get that for every hour I spend doing something for, or with, them I will be working into the night to make it up.
I love my job. I love my family. I hate having to choose between my father's health and my work success. Inevitably I choose less sleep. But that also means less quality time with my husband.
Then people ask, "Why are you tired? You don't work "