Anxiety, how I DID NOT miss you.

After enjoying a blissful many months with my new baby, and actually thriving despite all the demands she brings…

I find myself haulted by a simple resume I am writing for someone for a measly forty dollars. Initially, it was great. But after spending four hours on it (trying to organize all the cuttered info given to me with no clue where things stop and start due to improper grammer), only to find I did indeed interpret info wrong. The simple request for a phone call to sort it all out for me, three times requested, seems to have brought out the anxiety angels.

You know.. the ones that usually sit on my shoulder.

There is the “go for it” anxiety angel that tells me I am almost done, I already did most of the work, and a phone call is nothing bad nor hard.

And then there is the “quit now” anxiety angel that tells me I cannot get it right, that I should feel guilty for it not being perfect, that the phone call would be awkward, and that 40 dollars is not worth this misery.

“Go for it” anxiety angel: But you need that forty dollars.

“Quit now” anxiety angel: No, you don’t. It is only 40 dollars.

“Go for it” anxiety angel: Come on.. almost there… you are almost done. It feels good to complete a task.

“Quit now” anxiety angel: Yeah… but the task felt finished last night and it felt good for a bit… then you worried it was no good… so you didnt get to sleep for hours.. and then in the morning you found out you did not do it correctly and now they want you to fix it up again and that could take you another few hours. By the time you are done it will prob be a 6hr project for a weird $6.66 dollars an hour. Might as well go flip some burgers. If you could, you know, manage to even MAKE it to a job.

Suddenly the “Go for it” anxiety angel looks pale and is oddly silent.