single mom

Juggle, juggle

Anyone who knows me at all knows that I’ve got a bad habit of piling too much on my proverbial plate. They might even argue there’s rarely enough on my actual plate. And it’s true. I’m currently working on FIVE programs on top of work, F and a relationship. As one project came to a close, I was feeling pretty good about having some extra free time. And then an email came in. Superman told me I wouldn’t be able to say no.

He was right.

And so, what might have been four programs was bumped back up to five and I’m left questioning my sanity. It makes me cranky. It makes me crazy. It makes me tired and it makes me anxious. I wake in the middle of the night wondering if I missed a deadline. And yet I love it.

It’s not easy juggling work and freelance work and Finley and Superman and working out and bathing and eating and all that important-to-life stuff I have to do. And that’s what it is: it’s juggling. Every now and again – like earlier this evening – I have this moment of “WTF? Where is my work life balance?” and I end up listening to sad music and eating popcorn and a Popsicle in my workout gear.

And that’s OK, too.

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