What I’m not doing

This blog post was prompted by lovely Cat Treadwell pointing me towards an article – which you can read here – https://www.mamamia.com.au/i-dont-list  about owning what we don’t do and resisting the pressure to be superhuman.

I don’t do a great deal of cleaning. Mostly what cleaning I do happens in intense, occasional bursts when I’m recovering from something emotionally or intellectually intense.

I don’t invest much time at all in personal grooming. If you see me and I’ve gone so far as to brush my hair, this is about as good as it gets.

I have no beauty routines, no skin care routines. Sometimes I use moisturiser and that’s about it.

I do not count calories, watch my weight or have an organised exercise routine. Amusingly, I am in better shape as a consequence of eating what I want and doing what I feel like!

I am not winning at avoiding plastic packaging, I’m stuck with the things I cannot afford to source differently.

Official paperwork scares me.

I have neither anything resembling a career, nor any plans for one. I expect to just muddle along in a haphazard way for the rest of my life. I also have no pension and only the insurance I am legally obliged to hold.

I have far too low a tolerance for bullshit to handle conventional employment. I have zero capacity to be nice to assholes who could advantage me in work. I won’t do what I’m told for the sake of it, if it makes no sense I will speak out. Make-work makes me furious. See previous comment about career development.

I can’t cope with routine medical tests because these are massive panic triggers for me. I can barely cope with eye tests. I can’t drive and while I get eco-points for that, it is mostly about the anxiety and the fear of having a panic attack and killing someone while panicking.

It continues to seem preposterous to me that I count as a responsible adult, and that I am allowed to be responsible for people who are not adults.