Sometimes I disappoint myself. I know that at the beginning of the year I promised to try to be easier on myself, more gentle. I promised to try, and it’s not working. I am also perfectly aware that my standards for myself are sometimes impossibly high, but being aware of it and being able to stop myself from beating myself into a pulp about it seem to be unrelated. Reading that sentence back I realize it’s so full of ‘myself’ that I should really stop right here. I’m not a fan of navel-gazing.
It’s just that I have some pretty big stuff going on in my life, things I need to organise, things I don’t want to organise. If I don’t organise them, though, I’ll land up in a puddle in the corner. In between organising those big things I need to do Real Work, and keep up with Other Work (the deadlines loom and growl over there, in the corner, where the puddle might land). And in between those I need to make sure my household runs, people get paid, there’s petrol in the car, electricity in the machine. Slogging admin stuff that bores me to tears. I don’t have time for tears, though.
And I don’t have time to disappoint myself either, so why do I? Crapsticks.
2 comments:
I've long believed I need a butler to sort all the background stuff in my life out, to enable me to concentrate on the Big Stuff. Sounds like you do too!
xx
Oh, how I'd love to have a butler. Maybe he'd do my real work too, so I could sit about drinking G&Ts x
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