I long ago gave up trying to be perfect. Homemaking Goddess I was not, and after a number of major, and minor, personal catastrophes and life lessons, I finally got my work ethics in order.
Work to live, not live to work.
Good. Sorted. Work does not consume my every waking moment, I have a healthy social life and
my, umm, little writing hobbies fulfil my creative side.
Why then, am I still on a treadmill? No matter how hard I try, the week is still a series of 'shoulds', 'musts' and 'have to's', and I seem to spend the weekend getting ready for the week ahead.
Someone once suggested making a list of all the things you achieve in a week, but this only served to horrify me even more. I am a machine!
Oh shit, look at the time, rant over, off to werk, werk, werk....
By the way Wordcarving sort of says it all.