My Slaw column in January picked up on an important theme I have been exploring in my work and in my writing, namely, the trap of setting super hero expectations for ourselves in terms of volume and quality of our work, number of commitments we take on, and so on. I personally ran headlong into this in the lead up to the December holiday period and ended the year with much to reflect on. If you, like me, have a strict inner task master or mistress, please read on.
From the column:
On Christmas Eve, instead of happy dreams of sugar plums and nutcrackers I tossed and turned in bed battling inner demons that were determined to remind me of all my apparently innumerable short comings.
I was sick with a flu that left me weak and unable to carry out my fabulous plans for holiday entertaining. Adding insult to injury, I was left curled up on the couch clutching my cup of camomile tea and watching others sip from that bottle of California Cult Classic wine we had been saving.
Holiday photos this year feature me with tangled hair and dark circles under my eyes. Heck even my dog didn’t want to be seen with me!
How did this happen? I burned the candle at both ends. I attempted to be everything to everyone, exceed expectations, and…
