I quit my job. Yeah, the one I just started. I KNOW! I KNOW! OK? I know. I'm lame.

But here's the plain truth: I suck at working outside my home. I miss my kids too much. I don't handle, um, "group dynamics" too well. Lastly, I can make more money tutoring kids in writing. At my own dining room table.

And also, I really, really suck at pretending I'm some stranger's best friend just so I can make a commission off of her. I don't know how to be "fake nice." If I'm being nice to you it means I want to be your friend. But in retail, being nice means I'm trying to trick you into buying a bunch of clothing you may or may not be able to afford. I suck at that.

I suck at lying. I suck at manipulating. Apparently, I suck at selling.

I suck at keeping my mouth shut. I suck at not asking too many questions. I suck at not telling everyone how badly my feet hurt. I suck at not suggesting ways to do things better.

But most of all, I suck at not missing my kids--especially when I'm in a retail store at 10:30pm, vacuuming floors and restocking shoes--knowing that I won't get to tuck them in. Or do baths. Or bedtime stories.

Honestly, it just kills me. I'm a feeler and a nurturer right down to the very core of my being and if I'm deprived of my relationships, I really feel like there is no point to living.

So, last week on a late Tuesday night, I drove home bawling my eyes out because I felt so homesick, lame, stupid and like a failure. Is something wrong with me that I hate being away from home? Is something wrong with me that I what I love most in this world is being with my children and writing out my heart?

I called my sister and she was like: "Yeah, now you're going to have to tell your blog readers you quit the job you just started."

And then she laughed. Actually, she chortled. Actually, she howled maniacally. [OK, I'm exaggerating]. The point is, I laughed with her. Sheepishly.

The truth is that I'm privileged to be able to quit my job and be with my kids. My children won't starve to death if I don't work outside my home. In other words, I have the luxury of quitting this job.

And I take my hat off to all the mothers who work outside their homes. You have a kind of strength that I don't possess. I salute you.

As for me, I'm beyond relieved to get back to vacuuming my own floors, tending my soup pot, tutoring and writing this here blog.

I have found my little niche and I plan on staying in it--even if it means I get paid mostly in kisses from my babies. I like it here. I likes it very, very much.

In other news, I dyed my hair red.

(Just in case you thought I wasn't keeping things interesting enough).