You would have heard me talk about it time and time again, how I’m addicted to productivity. I have this incessant need to be doing something productive 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. I work for myself and I work from home, so I know that has certainly impacted this shift in me because if I don’t work and work hard… I don’t get money. I can’t afford to slack. I can’t afford to have down days. But I also can’t afford to burn myself out by pushing and pushing and pushing myself. I’m well aware that we all need down-time and a period in our day to relax. I know that. So why can’t I implement that for myself?
If you were to compare me with any character on TV, it’d probably be a cross between Monica Gellar (from F.r.i.e.n.d.s) and Bree Van Der Kamp (from Desperate Housewives). If I was a mother (which I’m not and not planning to be anytime soon), I would be that mum who’s the head of the PTA, hosts bake sales, play dates among other events, has a job, a house, hobbies and thinks it’s also a good idea to buy an allotment. I’m not but in my vision for my future, that’s who I imagine myself to be. So what does that say about where I’m at now?
Phew, this post has been a long time coming. Again, it’s another one of my word-vomit, spontaneous, horribly written posts which I’ll look back on and realise it doesn’t make much sense at all but it’s a topic which has been firmly on my mind for well, fucking months and one that I need to talk about. For no other reason than to just get what I’m feeling off my chest, in the hope that it might make me feel a bit better and maybe, just maybe, someone reading this will feel the same and offer some insight.