I was going to follow up my When You’re In, You Win post the other day by telling you why I haven’t given my dearest friend a script that she likes and wants to pass along to a producer (hint: it has to do with perfectionism, and it’s dopey). But that post is going to have to wait because I have realized there’s yet a more powerful circumstance stopping me from moving forward in all areas of my life:
I have too much on my plate.
Now, I could rail at the gods for a good long time, but let’s face it, I’m the one who heaps too much onto the to-do list. I do the mom thing, the dutiful daughter, the freelance writer, the homemaker, the consultant. One of my clients has a crisis? I leap to the rescue. Friends coming for dinner? Must clean, file, shop, cook, and make it all look effortless. Bonus points if I can set up a craft for the kids at the same time. I am wearing my Superwoman T-shirt today, in the vain hope of convincing myself I can do it all.
In the play Caligula, there’s a wonderful line about how when everything matters, then nothing really matters at all. I have a suspicion that perfectionism is at the bottom of my overload, which is crazy-making because the very fact that I don’t know what to drop means a bunch of stuff ends up being done half-assed. I gladly open up the comments to anyone who has advice on triage. I know this has to stop. The centre cannot hold. I was going to devote today to catching up on my to-do list, but what I really need to catch up on is sleep.
Am I alone in this? Does anyone else suffer from overload? Can I blame modern society or is it in fact all my fault?
Damn – as I write this, I am not kidding, the oatmeal is boiling over. (Whew! Caught it just in time.)
I’m gonna hit “publish.” And then I’m going back to bed.