Guilt has always been a motivating factor in my life. Seriously.
For example, let’s say I want to skip a family event… I don’t have to question whether or not I’ll Feel Guilty because I so, so will. I have to ask myself how long will I feel guilty. I’m OK with anything less than 48 hours of guilt. Anything higher means I can’t skip the hypothetical family event.
Enter Mama Guilt.
When I’m at work, I feel guilty I’m not home with Franny. When I’m home with her, I feel guilty I’m not at work. Don’t get me started on the guilt I feel over the pugs not getting as much attention as they deserve. Don’t worry, they still run the show but just with less walks.
Does it get better or at least a little bit easier?
Because ohhhmyyygoddd people, there’s nothing stronger. I wish I could bottle it up and get my loved ones drunk off mama guilt. WAIT, forget my loved ones. I’d open a fucking club and make billions.
Other posts you may enjoy. Or not, whatever.
- Six Month Update
- 58 Days
- Love is Weird
- The Sleeping Habits (or lack thereof) of Rosie Finlinson…
- Things Your Asshole Friends Don’t Tell You About…
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