I've been doing an intense weight training program for 45 minutes per day, 5x per week for 6 months and there is literally no perceptible difference in my “progress pics.” F progress pics, btw.
#UNDISTRACTED MAMAS FREE#
What you’re left with is a desperate housewife who feels like she can’t control a damn thing, right down to her own kids, cuz can anyone? After gaining weight from eating too much kale, because I’m 41 and that’s my life now, I went grain and sugar free for one month and then keto for 2 more weeks and weighed more afterwards than when I started. There’s always the next new thing to keep up with. The “Tim Ferris conundrum,” coupled with the infinite level of pressure to perform while simultaneously feeling like a failure, because it will literally never be enough, has turned me into a certifiable nut job. But, that’s the buy in, the trade off for the alleged American dream at the end of the tunnel.
It feels incredibly trite and inauthentic. What are you willing to do to get there? How many followers are enough on Instagram? How many staged pictures of your faux life do you have to post to win a sale? How many new products do you need to come up with to be fresh enough to satisfy the second long attention span in today’s world? How many heart emojis are adequate to express appreciation of a comment? I don’t want to think about this shit. That vague sense of relief gone as quickly as your celebratory beer. Post exam, you’re totally relieved for a day or two and then you remember you have to study for the next one. And I’m grateful for all of it, but the problem with owning something is that it’s never enough.
You know, travel the world while we churn out a few email responses each day to keep the bucks flowin.’ I won’t go into the human aversion to stillness. To add to our family income so that we can do all the things. Why? Because of the pressure to perform, to hit big, to be impassioned, and to immerse myself into something/anything. In spite of feeling at peace in a way that I never had before, I started a business 6 months ago. You’ve created a couple of insatiable monsters named Sean and Angi. Why shouldn’t I be able to bring in millions of dollars in passive income? Tim Ferriss… I simultaneously love and hate you. Disenfranchised by all of the “successful” people, the books, the podcasts, chirping in my ear about what’s possible. It’s not that I don’t enjoy the current state of my life, but I’m so busy picturing what it could be, I often feel an emptiness billowing beneath the surface- trapped by my own constant state of yearning. They don’t tell you that you need to keep praying for them to stay after pumping out and breastfeeding three kids. Although, I did pray for big boobs all through elementary school. I’m not sure I’ve manifested anything yet, other than a major sense of FOMO frosted with desperation and lingering discontent.
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