You just keep on pushing yourself

This, accidentally, is the best metaphor for what really is happening right now. Here I am, writing another entry that nobody will read, another pointless entry that even I won't remember for anything, and I'm writing it because I still tell myself I have to write here four times a month. And I write this after being all written out, because I have penned roughly three scripts and a programme treatment - and that's just me making things sounds more serious that they actually are.

Well, I tell myself I have to write this, if only to satisfy that internal quota that I have been, surreptitiously, complaining about the past few years, when I began writing here less because either my writing style has evolved or I have run out of things to write. Or, specifically, I have run out of time to properly observe the things around me, which leads to things I could write about. I used to be able to do that even with my earphones on, but right now I either just doze off - the consequences of a long commute - or I think of things I actually have to think of, like work.

Work. Are you earning extra when you think about work outside of work hours? Not really, no.

And how can other people get away with doing less while you pretty much give up your weekends for the cause?

It seems like it's easy to do, though, maintaining a good work-life balance, or whatever it is people call it these days. I mean, when people post about it online, it seems like it's so easy. Just set aside some time and forbid anything stressful from entering it. And maybe travel as often as you can - and ideally that should happen often. Yeah, we all know it's bullshit, but it's alluring anyway, isn't it? Imagine knowing, at the back of your head, that it's possible the answer to all your problems is within easy reach. But yet, you just keep on pushing yourself, because unlike those people who seem to have enough time for Facebook, your head is not up in the clouds.

I know what will happen to me on Wednesday afternoon. I will be so tired. I will be satisfied - almost typed "happy" but that never applies - because the event is over, but I will be so tired. I will be quiet. I would have had seven coffees, perhaps, and all that caffeine would be keeping me up. My eyes would be heavy but they would not drop. I'll just be quiet.

My mind goes further out than that, though. What would I do when everything is over? It doesn't end on Wednesday - there are still post-event reports, and then there's other stuff you have to do. Your stress levels never go down to zero; they just go down to normal. And you realize that the problems you sort of left behind are still there. And how can other people get away with doing essentially nothing while you pretty much give up your weekends for the cause?

Maybe I'll catch up on my writing. Maybe I'll finally worry about that Hong Kong trip. (Those Hong Kong trips, as it stands.) Maybe I'll catch up on sleep. I'll be really peeved if I still wake up at seven in the morning for no reason at all.

Or maybe I'll think of how we'll do all this better next year. You just keep on pushing yourself, after all, until you're spent, and even then you realize you can't really just drop off the face of the earth to recharge. I don't think I'll ever be able to afford that opportunity, much more the chance to claim that I live the good life, and you can, too.

And your responses...

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