Feed on

the rest of my time

I’ve spent a good part of the last year wishing for more time.

More time to clean that cluttered draw that bothers me.
More time to cook. Properly. Not quickie meals – but the good stuff.
More time to have coffees with friends.
More time to blog.

And now that I have a little time on my hands (ill. long story. nothing too serious) I find myself at a loss, drawn back to work and trying to keep on top of things. Even though I’m confined to bed.

That was until work sent me a very kind feckoff email.

Aha! The hubby said. Now will you effen rest?

I had a grumpy face for most of the rest of the day. (And the next day if truth be told.)

He (the hubby) said, quote stop treating work like it’s your own business unquote.

I had a friend say, quote I know this is hard because I know you love to work unquote

And then a coworker (of sorts) said, quote good it’s about time you took a break unquote

So I’ve spent the last day asking myself this:
Am I a workaholic?

I don’t have an answer yet, you see it’s not so easy to analyse yourself, but so far I’m not so sure that I’m a workaholic per se, maybe more of an …

When I get out of bed … I’m going to clean that draw.
I am.


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