I went home with the job offer still in my bag

Last year I was offered a job I’d spent months trying to get. More money, a better title and a company people recognised.

I went in to see the office before signing. On the way out, I stood across the road for a while, holding the folder they’d given me.

I was supposed to feel relieved. Mostly, I felt tired.

The previous two years had been difficult. I’d been working late, sleeping badly and cancelling things with friends. During the interview, I’d asked about working hours. The answer was a joke about how nobody watches the clock there.

I’d laughed along because I wanted the job.

I took the folder home and called my sister. She asked what I would tell her to do if it were her offer. That was an irritating question, mostly because I knew the answer.

I asked the company a few more questions the next morning. Their answers helped me decide. I turned it down.

It wasn’t a dramatic fresh start. I stayed in my old job for another four months, saved what I could and kept looking. Eventually I found something less impressive on paper with hours I could actually live with.

I still wonder about the money sometimes. But I’ve started seeing my friends again, and I’m usually home in time to cook.

I’m writing this because people often talk about the opportunities they took. I’d like to hear about one you decided to leave.