Lazy or just terrified perfectionist?


AGMA has a very, very busy week ahead of her.

Tomorrow (Tuesday) I am working all day. I have two private clients in the late morning/early afternoon, then am off to a corporate chair massage job in the late afternoon.

I’ll be catatonic tomorrow evening.

Wednesday is cleaning ladies day. So it’s always hectic cleaning before the cleaning ladies arrive to clean.

I know…oxymoron.

Then, Wednesday afternoon, Hubs and I jet off to New Orleans for two nights. It’s been 8 years since we’ve been to NOLA. Way too long. A cheap airfare, a nice but cheap hotel (who wants to broil in New Orleans in July?) and memory of the chargrilled oysters at Acme Oyster House sealed the deal.

And being antsy because AGMA hasn’t traveled anywhere in over 4 weeks.

Oh, the humanity…

We get back on Friday. I have to run 20 miles on Saturday and then we’re having the long postponed retirement party for Hubs on Sunday.

Today is really the only day I have to plan and do most of the shopping for Sunday. And get all my other “life stuff” taken care of before the weekend.

So what am I doing?

AGMA has spend a good part of the afternoon on WordPress, reading blogs and making my wry, witty, and/or poignant comments. And enjoying it immensely. It’s as if I’m as carefree as Trump Jr.s at one of his “adoption” meetings with that Russian lawyer.

La di da di da…

A friend posted this article, “You Aren’t Lazy – You’re Just Terrified: On Paralysis And Perfectionism” on her FB page. It hits the nail on the head. Not that AGMA is terrified. Or a perfectionist. A quick scan through my blog will confirm that.

And while I don’t “spend days at a time in bed, staring at the ceiling and thinking of all the things I could be doing but can’t because I know I would do them imperfectly” as #OCDame does, AGMA does tend to get a form of mental paralysis if I feel overwhelmed.

Like now.

Let the procrastination begin!

I know…oxymoron.

“Screw it all…I’m going to just do what I want to do and not what I really need to do.”, seems to be where my head has been today.

I’m mostly stressed about the party. And what AGMA’s going to serve to drink and eat. And how the house is going to look. Everybody coming is very “Atlanta urban.” Many have really superb taste in food, wine and decor.

AGMA doesn’t want to come across as lacking.  Too badly that is.

But 20 miles in my legs on Saturday is going to really limit my energy level.

Who’s idea was it to pick this date for Hubs party anyway?

Hmmmm…I think that might actually be AGMA.

Years ago, in another life in another universe, AGMA was a Midwestern Soccer Mom. I threw parties two or three times a year. I had my standard, solid Midwestern table snacks that I served over and over and over and over. Meatballs with sauerkraut in cranberry bbq sauce, toasted sausage cheese topped rye bread, cocktail wienies wrapped in Pillsbury croissant dough, ambrosia salad.

Low fat, low calorie stuff, ya know…

It was all very 90’s.

That stuff’s not gonna fly in July in Atlanta. Okay, well, maybe the meatballs. EVERYBODY loves those crockpot meatballs no matter how refined their palate or how hot it is outside.

And then AGMA remembers that they are friends. Friends we love to get together with. And laugh with. And get a little tipsy with. And laugh a lot more with.

They don’t expect perfection from themselves and they sure as hell don’t expect perfection from me.

Okay, so now I don’t feel so bad about hanging out on WP all afternoon.

Hubs and I are gonna have a great time in NOLA. And I’ll survive the run on Saturday.


And we’re all gonna eat meatballs on Sunday. And laugh. A lot.

It’s gonna be a great party!

Confessions of a Former Ubertasker


I used to be productive.  I had a professional job in IT, school-aged, active children, aging parents who needed help, a house and yard, and volunteer positions in my kid’s school, the community and my church.  Oh, and a husband.  All at the same time.  And I got it done. No nanny, no cleaning service, no smartphones or apps to coordinate it all.  But I got it done.

Remember (if you are of a certain age…) the 1970’s commercial for a perfume call Enjoli?

Yeah – that’s how I rolled in the 80’s and 90’s.  Jack of all trades, master of none, but in my own way, I was awesome.  I got it done. And, most of the time, in style and with a smile.  Okay – some of the time.

But now something is wrong.  Terribly, horribly, awfully wrong.

My kids are now grown and living successful lives of their own.  My parents passed away in the early 2000’s.  I no longer have a “real” job – I’m on hiatus remember?  The community and school volunteer positions have long been filled by other parents who were themselves in high school when I was volunteering.  I work couple of hours at my new church in my new city each week, but that’s about it.

Based on my past performance of successfully doing six things at once, you’d think that by this point I should have learned three languages, hiked the Appalachian trail twice, gotten another Master’s degree or two (maybe a PhD), started a tech company and become a 50 state marathon runner.  And still had time left over to master the art of the French soufflé and blog five days a week.

But that’s not how things are now.

If my day starts out with three thank you notes to write (so old school…), a prescription receipt to submit to the insurance company, a couple of loads of laundry to do, two bills to pay, blog posts from some of my favorite bloggers to read and a hotel reservation to book, I start stressing.  Too much to do.  And it’s very likely I won’t get it done that day.  Any of it.  I might play on Facebook for a while, answer a few emails, run out for coffee, start a blog post (not finishing it mind you) and buy a new running visor.

Like Scarlett O’Hara said, “I’ll think about it tomorrow.”  Fiddle dee dee…

How could I have fallen so far so fast and become so unproductive?

In the past two months I’ve restarted my little one person business and am working about ten hours a week.  Now I’m having a hard to finding time to go to the grocery store.


This past weekend I went to a three day conference that started on Friday.  On top of that, I had to run on Saturday morning and go to church Sunday morning to meet a commitment.  By Sunday evening I was saying (to quote Sheldon Cooper on “The Big Bang Theory”), “What fresh hell is this?”

How does one go from being ubertasker to being a slug?  I’ve been trying to figure it out…

In the past, was it a matter of just gritting my teeth and mentally forcing myself to go non-stop to get it all done?  It didn’t feel like that at the time.  Because everything seemed so “important” back in the day, does everything now feel trivial in comparison and just not worth very much effort?  Am I finally exhausted after all those years of non-stop activity and drama – a sort of PTSD response?  Did I burned out my adrenals and am now incapable of producing the cortisol my body needs for coping with stress?  Beginnings of dementia maybe?  Oh – I really hope not…  Have I gotten lazy?  Or is it just the simple fact that I was younger, and had more stamina and energy?

I don’t have an answer.  I wish I did.

I bought some bacon a few months ago.  I finally had to put it in the freezer because I just couldn’t get around to “frying it up in a pan.”

Maybe I should see if they are still selling Enjoli…