Sometimes I feel like I’ve missed the boat.
It’s as if, at some point, an opportunity arose to become part of a particular group or to have arrived at a specific stage in life and I unknowingly just…let it pass me by. Instead, I blindly plunged forth in my quest for achievement. A job here, a class there. A volunteer position. A new skill acquired. One more notch in my belt. One more chance to show I’d taken on more responsibilities than most and juggled them successfully. One more chance to gain recognition for my life “well lived”.
When did I become a stereotype? When did I become that character in the novel that you all but scream at to quit pursuing accomplishments and start pursuing relationships before you throw the book at the wall? When did I become a workaholic?
…a workaholic? Is that really what I am??? But I hate work!
/ˌwɜrkəˈhɔlɪk, -ˈhɒlɪk/ [wurk-uh-haw-lik, -hol-ik]