Last week, I had a full-scale meltdown over radiators.
Not metaphorical radiators - actual radiators - the kind that heat a room. We are mid-renovation and the choice of radiators has apparently become a decision of significant personal consequence.
In the same week, I was asked on a leadership course to reflect on the shadow I cast on those I lead - I was still catching up with the idea that I was in fact a leader so the idea of figuring out what my shadow is doing was not something I was prepared for.
Later, I was also aggressively greeted by an email with a tax bill large enough to make me briefly dissociate. It ended in a 40-minute hold to His Majesty’s Revenue and Customs and the slightly embarrassing confession that no - I really don’t earn that much.
At some point between the radiators, HMRC, and the shadow, I had a single clarifying thought: when on earth did I agree to take on these responsibilities?
When did I become an adult?
I am 38. Fast approaching 40, which was always th…
