I have an overwhelming sense of guilt this evening. Don’t worry, I’m not about to divulge sordid details of an illicit affair (but you’d LOVE that now wouldn’t you? Sick internet freaks). I’m not going to tell you that I accidently ran over the next doors cat and have yet to own up. No, it’s two-fold, and pretty damn intense; I haven’t been practicing enough yoga or writing my blog enough. That’s right, I’m a Type A over-doer in a middle class shame spiral.

Perhaps I’m a product of an escalating Guardian fetish. Or perhaps I’m the product of a generation told YOU MUST HAVE IT ALL. When I think about all the things we are ‘encouraged’ by The Life Gods to do on a daily basis it can become overwhelming. EAT FIVE A DAY. DO EXERCISE EVERYDAY. GET 8 HOURS OF SLEEP A NIGHT OR YOU WILL ACTUALLY DIE. Perhaps I spend a touch too much time on Pinterest.

I couldn’t possibly speculate.

I think I will disclose a little bit with you, dear internet friends, because I’m having one of those moments. This post actually begun as an entry in my personal diary. I hate to shatter any illusions of my blog being my actual private place for private thoughts, but, quite frankly, I do think about other things aside from feminism. I know, I hide it well. Anyway, I’m indulging in some teenage nostalgia with reckless abandon (with hopefully less boy angst) and have decided to start a diary. I’ve heard it’s very therapeutic and I’m not one to shy away from improving myself AT ALL TIMES. Did I mention I’m neurotic?

[Anyway, so this blog has the potential to resonate with approximately 0.1% of the population but hey, have it anyway. People love free shit.]

So why the guilt fest? I emphatically believe that you should make the most of your life, albeit sometimes aggressively so. However this can sometimes impinge on me actually enjoying my down time after work as I’m too busy exercising eating healthily having quality time with boyfriend seeing friends ringing parents feeling guilty for not ringing parents writing preening FEELING ANXIOUS. I guess it is ultimately about striking a balance between getting the most out of a day and allowing myself time to be lazy. And not lazy in a life-affirming, culturally rich way like learning a new language or writing politically motivated poetry. I’ve read many things recently in which play or at least doing something without an actual goal is good for you, but my mind is constantly trying to categorize the activity, trying to work out whether I ‘won’ somehow. I don’t know about you but what I’m taking from this research is that it is good for my HEALTH if I sit down and watch Made in Chelsea.

I suppose the key is accepting that some days (or even weeks) you’re not going to be the best version of yourself. You’re not going to be ticking things off your to-do list whilst doing lunges (for the record- I don’t actually do this). Some days you’re just going to be lazy, and actually, that’s OK too.

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