Being human is hard work. Being human and female is utterly exhausting. Lately I have had so many personal appointments that instead of fitting them in around work, work has been squeezed around the appointments.
A bit like some Kiwi men who have a side of fries with their Watties tomato sauce, the normal and appropriate balance has been lost and I feel like I am constantly running late for my own life.
Yesterday I arrived at work at a respectable hour, only to have to leave 30 minutes later for a filling and a lengthy session with a dental hygienist. On my way back to work, I scooted into the insurance company to lodge a claim for a car break-in (which took up a full day of admin last week) and I finally made it back to work just in time to leave again for a chiropractic appointment to straighten my wonky spine.
By 3pm I was at last firmly anchored at my desk and able to get a solid slew of work in ... for only two hours before I was due at my weekly massage (more issues with the bent back).
If I thought after that I might finally get the chance to relax and blob out at home, I then had to get my head around a long list of exercises given to me as homework by the chiropractor, then brush, floss, gargle and do basically everything else to my teeth that I had apparently been neglecting for most of my adult life.