It’s 9:30 pm. You got home at a reasonable time and rustled up a decent dinner. You’ve got the kids fed, teeth brushed, homework discussed, and they are tucked into bed. You climb into bed with your partner (who has that special look in their eye that you meet with that, “Don’t even go there” look of your own), you are balancing a glass of wine on one knee, your laptop on the other (answering work email), and the TV is on Real Housewives of Wherever.
This is what you call “me” time.
You congratulate yourself for checking all the important boxes for the day. Took care of the boss. Check. Handled the needs of your direct reports. Check. Kids. Check. Your partner. Check minus. Looming deadlines, client’s never-ending requests for “just one more thing,” responding supportively to your BFF's 17 text messages to rant about her divorce. Check. Check. Check. You’re awesome. You’ve got this.
And, as you are multitasking your way through the finish line of your day, you know you need this last hour to decompress before you lay your head down to sleep and get up tomorrow to do it over again. You’re doing an impressive job of fitting it all in.
You are so there for everyone and everything that is important to you.