13 Dec 2017

It’s a tug-of-war, this. The new episodes of Peaky Blinders have come on Netflix, I feel torn every minute of each day: writing vs watching TV. How the hell are my priorities so flaky?

Anyway, it’s been a testing week, in a literal sense of the word “testing”, because my writing routine has been interrupted by not having two weekends in a row to myself. Normally, what tends to happen is that Sofia spends every weekend at her father’s, which allows me enough time to prewrite some of the content for the week ahead. Not having this time though means writing larger content when possible, on top of dealing with more of the hated mundane: food preparation, commuting to and from playdates, extra grocery shopping, that sort of stuff. Oh, and I’ve not mentioned that I am on the school’s Parents Committee, now in full swing of organising its Christmas party. While I don’t physically feel enough exhaustion to be able to dramatically declare that I am overwhelmed, due to my lazy nature and, hello, the new Peaky Blinders being out, it does feel much.

I am worried about my trip home as well, we are leaving next week. I have NEVER spent a holiday with my family doing anything other than chilling out with them folks. I have never said “no” to my mother’s invitation to “go for coffee” at a moment’s notice, I have never had to spend a morning outside the company of my family members. I get it, I get it, this sounds like a fake-ass “challenge” but you have to understand that this is TRADITION, this is ingrained, this is because my family and I live in different countries and see each other three times a year, when Sofia is on a break from school. You bet I am worried! Work ethic and ability to focus do not come naturally to me, it’s all not just extra effort, it’s basic effort and I’ve never had to learn what that even meant.

Yet, I look at people who are entrepreneurs, writers, bloggers, people who WORK, and, holy f-ck, they must pack in so much into their days, their lives, to be able to achieve what they had – they are visible, their names are “out there”, they themselves seem to be “out there” at events, parties, family dos, and they are baking, they are shopping, they are Winter-Wonderland-ing – all this AND a seamless production of a f-ckload of work. AND I BET YOU if you ask them about their favourite TV show they will say Peaky Blinders because of course they’ve had time to watch it! I don’t get it. OK, I am a single parent with no child care but this is literally my only excuse. It can’t be enough of an excuse, I have that much of a hunch. Should I add to that taking care of two raggedy-ass cats?

On a slightly more positive note, I have put a couple of posts up on FaceBook. Big step. Or, rather, A Step. Even if no one had read them it would have been a step, but a few people did read them! The one about the clown I used to be so desperate to date went down a relative storm. Which, ironically, is the one I wish people hadn’t paid attention to due to its extremely high quantity of embarrassing info. Oh well…

I am still hung up on the blurb though. As I was giving it yet another countless thought, I realised that what I had written so far does not necessarily reflect the title of my website. In my head it does, of course, but not in the typed-up reality. If I figure out how to better lean into the “regret” bit in my own pieces, maybe the outline could come with more ease. For instance, for today’s post (or, by the looks of it, for every Wednesday’s post) I regret having spent all of my previous years of life drowning in undeserved privilege whilst dismissing the effects that having a job inevitably has on self-esteem, or ignoring how earning your own money and being financially independent sets you free – even if it’s from your own parents – and leaves a smaller chance for a mental struggle with yourself. I should have done something meaningful with my youth, it was so stupid that I didn’t, I regret it now.