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Chapter Two
Ireached into my handbag, pulled out my yellow personalised notebook and thumbed my way through to find a fresh page.
There was no point just saying things would change. For this to work, I needed to take action. Commit to a formal plan. A specific list.
It needs a name. What should I call it?Life Plan? No.Master Plan? That didn’t work either. Sounded like something from a James Bond film, where the evil baddie hatches aMaster Planto destroy the world.
No. It needed to be something positive.Let me think…
This was all about the changes I was going to make to improve my life: to show Albert I was putting my time on this earth to good use. So…
Yes.
In big, bold capital letters at the top of the page I wrote:
M.A.P.
An acronym for: Make Albert Proud.It’s perfect.
Now I had the title, I’d write this down and make it happen.
Okay, what would I like to change about my life? Well, I definitely had to start with this:
1) Stop being a workaholic/have a better work-life balance
It might sound cool running your own business, and in many ways it is. You get to choose when you work and how much you get paid. You call the shots. But the bit theydon’twarn you about is the long hours (kiss goodbye to weekends, evenings and holidays), the stress of being responsible not just for big client budgets (and even bigger expectations), but also for the livelihoods of your team. If the money isn’t there to pay them at the end of the month, they won’t be able to cover their mortgage/credit card bills/buy food etc. It’s lot of pressure.
Don’t get me wrong—Ilovewhat I do. But as Albert said, all work and no play is bad, so I can’t let that passion cause my personal life to go to shit. I need to see my family and friends more. Make time for our monthly catch-ups at the very least and not be an arsehole by cancelling or turning up late because I feel the need to be available to clients 24/7.
I need to not work late every night and at weekends. What’s the point of spending years building a talented team who are always asking for more responsibility, which will help lighten my workload, if I’m going to continue micromanaging?
Time to set boundaries and not be all about the work.
2) End my relationship
So this is huge. I’ve been with Rich since I was twenty-four and soon it will also be our fifteenth anniversary. How didthathappen? Whilst it might seem like a big milestone, we haven’t really had fun or a proper relationship for ages and I know we’re growing apart. I love Rich dearly, but we’re notinlove. Well, at least I’m not, anyway. I realise that now.
I think we’ve both known for ages that it’s over. We stay together because it’s easy, but that’s not a way to live. We’ve stagnated for years, and the longer we remain in this relationship, the more of our lives we’ll be wasting.
This is a massive decision. Just thinking about it does kind of scare the shit out of me. Not only the part where I’ll have to break the news and hurt Rich, but also the prospect of being single at my age after being coupled up for so long. I’m definitelynotlooking forward to going through all that dating stuff again.
Fuck. It’s going to be beyond tough, but if something isn’t working, no matter how hard it is you’ve got to grow some balls, be brave, speak up, end it and move on.
Who am I kidding? If only it was that simple. It’s easy tosoundstrong and say those words in theory, but I’m pretty sure that actually putting it into practice is going to be significantly harder…
Tough titty. As difficult as it will be, I can’t be a wuss. It has to be done. No turning back.
3) Experience passion
I feel a bit cheeky writing this one, but what the hell. I’m doing it anyway. Now that I’ve had time to think about it, my work addiction and relationship rut has made me forget one fundamental thing: I’m still a fully functioningwoman. And women haveneeds!
Like I said, there’s no hope of rekindling that side of things with Rich now. It’s too far gone. Not just the physical side—there are other factors too. But on the subject of being intimate, as many people in a relationship will understand, if you leave it long enough, it’s easy to quickly forget about how amazing it feels to have great sex. Well, it’s been an eternity, so I can’tquiteremember the specifics, but IthinkI used to enjoy it.
Even if the memory of my sexual experiences has faded, my imagination is still firmly intact, so I do have the ability to at least fantasize about it.
I mean, I’m not asking for the earth (well, not initially, anyway). Right now I wouldloveto have a long passionate snog. Oh, and what I wouldn’t give for some hot guy to gaze longingly into my eyes like I was the sexiest goddess who ever graced the universe, rip my clothes off in the throes of passion and kiss me all over.
Just thinking about it gives me the tingles…I’d be prepared to give up chocolate for a month for one night of passion…
