I am rarely on top of my life. You know those women (and men) with fastidiously clean houses who can genuinely relax because they have nothing hanging over their heads? I can't remember the last time I did something to decompress without a nagging thought about something else I should be accomplishing. It turns into a weird cycle of self-defeating stressing out about relaxing.
I've never checked every box on the to-do list because mine is endless. Never-ending work is one of the disadvantages to the "quirky chaotic" lifestyle - but on the upside, I have a yard full of chickens and goats. I regret nothing.
If there was a rating system for how good people are at all things "adulting" I would probably fall into the "meh" category. We have a house, trucks, an accountant, life insurance, and the children and animals are all up-to-date on shots. As a relativist, this feels like a fine and a fairly "adulty" place to be. But, I am sitting here sucking down my third goat milk latte in an oversized Mickey Mouse fleece while hoping the kids sleep for 15 more minutes to eke out more blessed quiet. I'm a mixed bag, like everyone else.
In defiance of my personality - a combination of high aspirations and a cat falling off a counter - we managed to get our Christmas card photos done last week. This is the first year I have pulled it together enough to get them shot with sufficient time to get cards out on a timeline that vaguely resembles the holidays. I'm pretty proud of myself for this.
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to RealBestLife to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.