Confessions of a Workaholic

A workaholic, colloquially, is a person who is addicted to work (the correct medico-legal term is “ergomania”).The phrase does not always imply that the person actually enjoys their work, but rather simply feels compelled to do it. There is no generally accepted medical definition of such a condition, although some forms of stress, obsessive-compulsive personality disorder and obsessive-compulsive disorder can be work-related.                  (excerpt from Wikipedia)

____________________________________________________________________________Dustus enters Photobooth

Some people (mostly friends) consider me smart.  Man, I felt dumb this weekend.  I’ve come to the conclusion that I never really learned how to relax.  In the past I’ve always kidded myself about that. In reality, it grips me fierce and I begin to understand I’m a mindless robot to habit.  I often wonder if a lot of other people feel this way? Nonetheless, I’m partly a slave to routine because I grew up believing that working hard is more important than working smart.
Sometimes I feel so full of nervous tension and anxiety.  When I catch myself that way, I recognize things are not moving as quickly as I would like.  It has a lot to do with being impatient.  This happens a lot during winter.  I experience a “cabin fever” of sorts between December and February in Michigan. When it starts, it’s like all the caffeine I had over the past month prompts me into fidgeting, pacing about my place, unable to sit still, yet it remains too cold to go outside for more than a few minutes.  Yet worst of all: I feel like I always should be doing something, anything– have to be productive!  Well, that’s a part of my overall problem that I need to keep in check.  Cease being a workaholic and start acting like a person again! (that should be my new mantra–something like “live your life rather than dying from exhaustion”)

So to myself and blog I make this pledge:  I will chose quality time over remaining a slave to the sense of dire urgency that I feel nearly each day.  I guess I’ve always wanted to be successful; but I’m definitely going about it the wrong way and pushing aside the ones I love in the process of working through the entirety of another day.  Enough is enough already!  I’m not even done writing this blog entry and I catch myself thinking about what I have to do tomorrow. (I need to cut that shit out.)  In many ways its worse than the funk of an inhibiting bad attitude and feels most depressing when missing out on life, as well as all the things I can’t seem to find time to enjoy.  So I’m going to relax now.  After all, it is the “day of rest.”  Time to have some fun! I’m out.

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