My mom always used to say, “You play, you pay.” I don’t know when or why that mom-ism became a regular in my household growing up, but I remember hearing it those times when I stayed up too late at a sleepover party or when my mom’s phone call to my college dorm room interrupted my hangover. And somehow, despite the fact that I’m a grown-up (and doling out the same words to my own children), I can still hear my mother’s voice echoing in my head, “You play, you pay.”
But the hardest part isn’t the fact that I have to play catch-up on all my household chores. It’s the fact that I have to function all day at work despite the fact that my voice is scratchy, my body is on autopilot, and my brain is mush. I’m kicking myself for not working ahead on certain projects so I wouldn’t be sitting here freaking out right now about the time crunch I now find myself in the midst of.