Wake up call

Morning did break the spell. I can’t say I feel particularly “fresh” but it’s Friday, end of a long week, and hopefully some catching up on sleep. I feel bad for Reinout, although he sleeps, he wakes up from my frustrations, turning on and off the light and occasionally crying. It’s like living with a mad woman. I’m not too far from it. All attempts of structure my work – life appears futile, to the point of being utter pointless. In the darkest of hour, I amuse myself with the notion of carrying out a social experiment to see how many days one can go without sleep.
Reinout gives me a lecture this morning on how I can fit it all in within 5 days, 40 hours. I actually feel it’s an insult. A clear misunderstand of what I actually do and have to do during the day. Apart from work this including various domestic chores and looking after Sebastian too.

My situation does ring true to a couple of articles I’ve read as of late. That of women being the masters of feeling guilt. Whereas men seem exempt to this supposedly human feeling, we women feel guilty for anything possible. From missing a birthday, to having to dash off 5 minutes earlier to collect the kids. Another article echoes a similar idea. The good girl syndrome. What starts with the pursuit of top grades and being beautiful (often resulting in bulimia and anorexia) ends at 35 in a burnout. That woman could be me. In fact it is me. And I’m heading there with alarming pace. WAKE UP CALL!!!!