Confessions of a Workaholic

Confessions of a Workaholic

I built a business once when I was a young single mother, a long, long time ago. It supported us well. I got tired and started looking for a partner, in life…in business…who knows. I found both. After working together for five years, I was broke. Manual labor business is like that. Many service industries rely heavily on the back, legs and knees. My tendons and bones gave up simply because I was working too hard.

In the end, the husband was gone. The partner was gone. They both still have the business.

Confessions of a WorkaholicMoral of the story. I got greedy and worked too hard. This was all preventable. I knew better. I kept waiting for others to change. I did not protect my interests.

Somewhere along the way I lost my integrity with my own self. Money for the bills was the only reason to work. My head got big with my success. I got older and just figured these men owed me the money I was making when working because I had brought the business so far. They just didn’t see it that way.

In all fairness I was given a small severance for leaving the business which was about 5000.00 less than the interest I brought to it in the beginning. I bought property with that so my sons and I would have a home. I sold that home 2 years later for 100,000.00 profits which was a nice severance.

Another moral of the story. Rage and blaming are wasted efforts. Within three months of some badly needed spiritual down time, I started to find my part, my choices, my decisions and therefore the outcome I was living with. I didn’t agree with the way things turned out because I wasn’t in control of it. However, when I let go of the control, amazing things came to pass.

By the time I left that business I was hollow with the pain in my back and knees and tendons. I was a shell of who I had been before. Slowly I have begun to rebuild. With a simple 26.00 license I workaholic a lot slower, make much less money, notice the sky and fresh air a little more, am very thankful for my 1995 Ranger that just keeps going and I spend a lot of time with my grandkids.

Essentially, it was greed that got me. Pride thrown in with it just helped the end come quicker.  There is no substitute for peace. I really question whether I will tear my body to pieces again for the buck. Maybe there is a better way, if I can just have the faith to look.

Who knows? When I was in college way back when, they said I was a writer.

About the Author

Kathy Thomas lives in a small town in Florida with her 4 kids and 5 grand kids nearby. Horses whinny, kayaks skim the waves, the ocean is near and blue, and there is bluegrass music in her guitar and voice. Life is so short, just the blink of an eye, the touch of tide upon a moonlit shore. Peace is everywhere. Kathy practices Reike, writes, sings and plays music. She is happy almost all the time.


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