My biggest obstacle

At this moment I am suffering from a heinous tension headache, heartburn, I have a lump in my throat and my breathing is stuck in my collar bones. With symptoms like this one might think that something dreadful has happened or that I am being exposed to some sort of extreme, inhuman stress. Or perhaps I have been catapulted into a situation that is completely out of my control.

The truth is I have spent the past two hours of this evening trying to persuade myself to book a weekend for myself, by myself in Stockholm. My husband tells me flat out, "I think you should do it."

And yet the thought of actually doing it inadvertently awakens my personal Guilty Conscience Monster (who resembles those black angels of death from the movie "Ghost"). He whispers things like:

Train tickets cost money. There's so many other things that you could use the money towards.

It's not like you're obligated to go to the yoga workshop you plan to sign up for. You have books and notes that you can use to develop your practice.

Won't you feel bad leaving the kids?

You can see Maria some other time, like when you have more money, time, etc.

And yet (here's the embarassing part):

I have vouchers for my train tickets so that I can travel first class for peanuts.

I have an AWESOME girlfriend with the nicest apartment (where I can crash for free) that is literally like a home away from home. And we always have a BLAST together.

Work will pay for the workshop.

My kids are going to have their mother around 24/7 the entire month of July.

I realize that as I write this, that if I don't get my crap together and just (as my husband so elegantly put it) DO IT then I will be one of those pitiful women who waste their lives as martyrs lamenting over never getting credit for their so-called sacrifices.

By the way, it is a done deal. Tickets are paid (non-refundable). Girlfriend is informed. Sign-up is completed, so the last weekend of June I will first spend three hours learning to "fly into asana" and proceed to eats tons of Ben & Jerry's so that I am ready for the intensive, therapeutic shopping that will follow.