![]() ![]() I was raised by a generation of women who read the book “ Meditations for Women Who Do Too Much.” I am sure there are still meditations there for many of us today.ĭejan Dundjerski/cherryandbees/Adobe Stock Anyone who has spent a day multitasking while listening to a distant endocrinologist’s poorly chosen hold music will know what I mean when I then ask: Do you want to spend the whole weekend volunteering? My mom and daughter have both been through some tough spells health-wise, and we’ve had days sucked dry by the tiresome vicissitudes of America’s health care system. I’m sure a lot of you can relate to the brisk clip of deadlines to meet this month mine include a persnickety grant application on a finicky portal that seems designed by a malevolent god who wishes to grant no money, to anyone, ever. Really? I thought! Tess, why do you keep doing this to yourself? None of them looked like the cocktail I wanted to nip out for with my partner. ![]() None of these promises of my time looked like a chance to read or daydream or even just to answer my email in peace. ![]() I’ll be honest: As I looked at these promises flickering up from the electronic gaze of my phone’s calendar, I was not pleased. Oh yes, and after that, I was to host our daughter’s Girl Scout troop for pizza around a backyard firepit because every campsite in driving distance had been rained to bits by our devastating megastorm California winter. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |