I feel bad for my husband.
I really do.
I do all the paperwork for our business and it makes me very, very grumpy.
For the longest time, I couldn’t figure out why. It’s not the work that I mind. The actual physical and mental act of doing paperwork is almost like meditating; for the most part I can just tear through piles of it in no time and it’s relaxing. And if it were your paperwork or a job’s paperwork, my grumpiness would never come in to play.
But tonight it hit me. To begin with, I’m high strung and just go constantly until my body or mind gives me the finger. This is amplified by the fact that our sole source of income is derived from our business. Every customer is integral, every job is a necessity to accept.
See, I’m driven by an immutable sense of not failure, but ruin. The thought of losing my house, of having overwhelming debt and having to rely on others to get by chills me.
I have a fear of not being self-sufficient.
Imagine the sword of Damocles. For every moment that is great, for every year that we do good business, I feel like the inevitability of failure ticks ever closer. It looms over me-an evil, threatening presence. I can’t sleep at night sometimes, I never feel done, there’s never a moment to relax because that breeds complacency and once you’re complacent, all the threads unravel.
Recently I’ve been dealing with a multi-pronged problem. I delegated something and trusted everyone to adhere to the New Way. The process wasn’t communicated to our clients and if it was, they ignored it. Then, I just…missed something.
That little slip of control and that tiny fuck up feels to me like the thread that suspends the sword just frayed a little. I know that this issue will absolutely not bring the blade down upon me, but really-how long can it last up there? How long can things be good for? When do I get handing my pile of Tough Shit and kicked to the curb?