Charming, but single

My mother, who is quite intuitive, has noticed my high level of stress lately. And when I say that she is intuitive, I mean that she noticed that I was talking quickly and loudly and angrily and overreacting and near tears at one point. My tell is that my bubbly personality which brims with a hint of cynicism morphs to frantic pessimism when I am worn down. I’d been puppysitting for my parents this week and I stopped by to see them when they returned from vacation and pick up piles of laundry I’d washed while they were gone. And I was generally being disagreeable – I’m not too proud to say that when I am extremely tired, and I mean sleep-deprived tired, and grumpy, I act like a three-year-old who hasn’t had her nap. I was griping about not wanting to get dolled up and be sociable for someone’s birthday, not because she isn’t great, but because I was feeling less than friendly. Finally, my mom, quite awesomely, said, “[Charming], just put on a sundress, pull your hair off of your face and knot it back – it looks so pretty like that – and slap on some dangly earrings – you have many pairs – and go drink a margarita and relax. It will make you feel better.”

And then she invited me for lunch on Sunday.

Sunday afternoon came and we were sitting in the kitchen with the shade down because it was so hot, drinking iced tea like the Southern Ladies we are, when she broached the subject in a way that she knew would appeal to my intellectual side.

“I read this article about this young woman who become dependent on her technology and work,” my mom said. “And it was about how sometimes young people are too goal-orientated and they stress themselves out by working so much.”

I raised one freshly waxed eyebrow and gave her a sideways look.

“There’s nothing wrong with being goal oriented,” I said. “You work hard now, do the late hours now so that later you don’t have to.”

“Being goal oriented is fine, but sometimes, you can be TOO goal oriented.”

“And what did this young woman do to fix this problem of hers?” I asked, skeptically.

My mom rattled off a list of things – disconnecting from technology for the weekend, therapy, getting new hobbies. And I listened with a wary ear. Was my mom telling me to go to therapy? Had I crossed the line and moved from busy and stressed to hopelessly cynical and depressed?

Or was I simply reading too much into an innocent conversation? My mom is always comparing my generation’s work habits to hers. We really are two different animals, as she was on her second child by the time she was my age. Maybe she just thought of me while reading the article.

I think a lot about my approach to life – everything is very much set by future plans and future goals. Focus on my career now so that later I can focus on a family. Have fun now because I’ve given myself permission to not stress about coupling and baby making until I am 30. (I actually made that official by announcing it to Southern Belle at dinner on Saturday night. I told her that at 30 I would get scared if I wasn’t nearing Coupledom because I really wanted to start having children by 35, clearly restating my earlier goal of freaking out when I turned 25 because I wanted to start to have children when I was 30. She just politely rolled her eyes.)

The goal setting, I think, allows me to prolong things and put them in the future, because as Miss Scarlett O’Hara said, “After all … tomorrow is another day.” But how much of this is just a coping mechanism that keeps me from dealing with the problems of today? If I can’t get pass the things holding me back – an unbalanced life, for one – will I ever get to see my grand plans and schemes come to be?