Angels Hell

This morning when I woke up, I wondered where the fun in my life had disappeared to. When exactly, did life become all work and no play? Did it just happen? Or did I work myself up to it?

The realisation came a couple of days ago, the catalyst I believe, was when I couldn’t find my favourite white shirt.

I turned the wardrobe upside down, looked in the washing basket, and in the dryer. The fairies must have nicked it, along with by black heels.

I decided to clean the wardrobe ( two wardrobes) and drawers out, with a strict policy, if I hadn’t worn it for a year, out it goes.

Washing and ironing done, everything hanging in color coded order. Shoes in the same order on the rack, bags lined up on the shelves. Knickers and bras folded neatly, along with socks and stockings.

Since when did I need 18 white shirts and only wear 3, and how come I have 22 pairs of knickers? As if I didn’t do the washing a couple of times a week! So many pairs of shoes, of which I wear only a couple, because the rest kill my feet. And, the bag I had to have, which I bought 3 months ago, and cost the best part of $200. I loved it in the shop, I don’t like it any more, so it is lined up with the other 11 bags. To top it off, I haven’t used it.

When did this happen to me, how could I let it happen? My credit card bill is $17,000. No wonder I work long hours and hardly get a spare minute to myself. I’m too busy being an over spender, over achiever, making sure my team never fails to meet their monthly sales target, and being a “can do, no problem” person for the boss. When did I start working 12 hour days? Can’t remember, it just sort of happened along the way.

I get stressed and mail order. Work stresses, family stresses, they have merged and become one. I can no longer draw a line between the two. There is no time to de-stress, no time to sit and do nothing. No time for my favourite things, reading, blogging, gardening, I can’t dance either, it isn’t ‘productive’.

I say no time because I have to be busy, I can’t relax, have lost the art of reading for pleasure, and doing nothing. When was the last time I had fun, without shopping? I can’t remember, it’s too long ago. When was the last time I didn’t feel pressure, from one source or another, and when exactly was the last day I didn’t have a headache?

How did I turn into this person? When did I start to look at the world from the outside, instead of joining in? How do I find my way back home?

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