In September, I got a new job as an Assistant Head. Much rejoicing. Also in September, there was an addition to our family. Much rejoicing. In October, we had Ofsted. Stress, then much rejoicing. By Christmas, the Head had made it clear that my face didn't fit. No rejoicing. At all. I have worked 60, 70 and more hours a week - I barely get to see the children, my other half or have any kind of a life for myself - my immediate superior is happy with what I do, but the Head finds fault with absolutely everything (apart from my teaching - even he can't overrule Ofsted's judgement of Outstanding). Last week, the Head told me that he intends to reorganise the Senior Managers, and that I'll be shuffled out as it were by September (the joys of Academies) unless I somehow impress him. Had a chat with the other half, and instead of jumping through hoops (which I know will fail to impress the Head anyway, he's decided that nothing I do can be right) I'm now thinking of just chucking in the job and, from this September, going back to being a mainscale teacher - much less stress, chance to see the children of an evening, chance to enjoy my life again and do the things I've given up - I was contemplating doing a PhD, for example, and I haven't read a book since last summer. Is this a failure, or a tactical withdrawal, though? That's the question... I am casting it as the latter, but have nagging suspicions I'm the former.