I should only weigh 105lbs (I'm only 5'0 afterall) - so I worry about what I eat and feel bad about not having time to run anymore.
I should be the best aunt ever and I need to give meaningful gifts for Christmas - so I'm making individual books for each of my neices and nephews with stories and illustrations all by me about them.
I should get my masters so I can think I'm accomplished - so I'm busting my butt in a degree I find interesting. Interesting. yup.
I should work full time and have a good respectable title - so I work hard to get a promotion to a job that I'm not even sure I really want. Project Manager. Thats me. Call me PM. Not 'just' a specialist anymore.
I should serve God with all my heart and do good for others - so I cook Sunday dinner every week and have others over who 'need' a place to go. I am in charge of the teenage girls in our church 12-18 and try to do everything in my power to make them happy and entertained and get something spiritual as well and know that I love them (which I do, truly) twice or 3x a week.
I should have an amazing house - so I spend hours cleaning, decorating, picking up, remodeling, whatever so that each place in my house could be photographable. Every place. Inside cabinets and closets and in every room and our cellar. Take a photo. Go ahead. Its perfect.
I should make everything look amazing - I don't just wrap presents I spend time combining the right paper with the right ribbon and tag and coordinating it with the other presents that will go to that family. They look amazing. Not just gifts though, anything. Picture of my cat - not done by me but my an actual photographer friend because my handiwork won't do. An invitation for a girls outing, not by me but by my friend the graphic designer. They're beautiful and I would expect nothing less if its going to be coming from my hand to yours.
I should look good for Doug or my girlfriends or coworkers - so I worry about my thin hair and imperfect skin and I fuss over stretch marks and static and cat hair. I read about how to be pretty so I can be 'beautiful'.
Who made up all these rules? Me. I've got to be the best I can be, right? ...drowning...
my cat Patches (photo courtesy of Scott Myler)