Hi, My Name is Becky, and I’m a Workaholic

When I pictured what life would be like with the girly-birds away at college, I don’t think this is quite what I pictured.

I am pretty sure that I’m a workaholic, and without kiddos to wrangle, I have let work encroach on me pretty much daily.

This would probably go hand in hand with my ADHD diagnosis that my husband is just sitting in a corner nodding and saying, I could have told you that.

My boss would agree with him.

I work.

A lot.

It could be that I have this beautiful new building that we are just opening!

I’m a Forkin’ Workaholic!

It could be that I love to seeing the customers come in and talking to them about what we have to offer!

I absolutely adore the shining eyes of the kids when they see the areas we included just for them!

Or it could also be all that and also I have trouble delegating and letting things go.

For quite a while there seemed like so much was out of my control, I tend to try to control things.

My counselor and I have an ongoing discussion about looking for what are things that are actually in my control and what are things that I can’t control but need to deal with and what are things that are completely out of my control that I just need to let go and move on.

Over the weekend I put in at least 8 hours between what I did at home and in my office, and this was after a full week of working pretty much 7:45-6pm daily. So, the husband looked at me and said, “You need to take a day off.”

I started with the excuses of why I couldn’t – I’ve got a meeting here, we are short staffed there, I’ve got a group coming for this, and a contractor coming for that.

Then I took a good look at myself.

I’m exhausted.

I looked at my calendar again.

And I scheduled a day off.

I even set up an “Out of Office” reply for my work email.

So, on my day off, today, I took the dog to the vet this morning, I watched a lot of TikToks, I have 2 appointments later this afternoon, I’m running by Target, and I’m writing my blog post, and I’m mentally planning what I’m going to make for supper later.

I’ve barely looked at the emails that keep dinging on my phone and only passed on a couple of messages to my work about people who need to be absent.

So, yeah, I’m sitting at my dining room table, with the door open to the back yard, watching the trees blow in the warm autumn wind, wondering if and when I will ever really be able to allow myself to really take a day off. But, that might be another conversation for me to have with my counselor.