Gordon Ramsay (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
On a scale of one to ten, my stress levels are at a Gordon Ramsay ‘ten’ at the moment.
Work has gone into overdrive recently and once I’ve done my duties as a mother, domestic slave and family therapist, there is no time left for ME.
And I resent it. There, I said it.
I need ME-TIME. I need time to offload on my blog, watch a trashy movie, drink more than two glasses of wine and fantasise about hot, young men. At the moment I’m having to donate precious ME-TIME to the impossible task of matching socks, cooking uninspiring food and refereeing between the rest of the dysfunctionals.
Why can’t my work/life balance stay at a level I’m comfortable with? I’ve resigned myself to the hours I initially agreed (as employee, wife, mother, aka Super-Slave) to designate to each different department of my life, but the minute one area begins to demand overtime I begin to crumble with the stress.
I never pretended to be a fucking saint!
And meltdown is not a pretty sight in my case. Put it this way, I make Ange in ‘Girl Interrupted’ look normal.
When I begin to crumble mentally, the symptoms and abstract behaviour can become very disconcerting. Particularly for the dog. I become completely non-tactile (except with wine bottles and chocolate), monosyllabic and I have a tendency to curl up in the foetal position either under my desk or preferably with the Princess in her dog bed, and rock. If the phone rings I begin to shake uncontrollably and I do crazy, irresponsible things like pretend I’m taking the Princess for a walk when really I’m going down for a quick Chardy at the local bar.
Not really, but I would if I could get away with it.
I don’t manage stress and anxiety very well, so when I get up early to work BEFORE my first fucking 8am meeting (WTF!) and the old man mentions that he hasn’t got any clean socks, it takes all my patience not to ram his dirty ones down his throat until he chokes on his own vomit and dies.
Remedies I have found to have some success include:
And then there’s wine….
Oh, and sobbing loudly in the car along to Michael Buble’s ‘Hold On’.
How do you cope when your work/life balance gets screwed up?