Raphaella Withlove: The twenty-something struggle.

There's currently twelve rather excitable (for such an hour) exchange students on this train.

They're having 'worm' races, to the sounds of a huffing and puffing assemblage, in coach D.

When I say 'worm' of course, I aint talking about no, eyeless, legless, cylindrical-aphid, games.

Oh-no... Im referring to the 'funk' subculture, stemming movement, that's somewhat reminiscent to that, of the wriggly insects, inherent stroll.

And as much as Im admittedly, lost in a world of sheer bewilderment right now, and yet successfully pulling off, my most convincing of disapproving mug shots. I'd sincerely love nothing more than, to belly flop my way into the gangway and kick some royal spanish ass.

Hehe!

But whats really stirring my mind right now and my unidentified flavoured cuppa-soup, is that old broken record.. 'Balance'.

No doubt-eth ive spoken on this matter before, but the noun just doesn't run in my veins; I mean... im a fecking Libra for snoop-dogg's sake. I change my mind more often than I change my knickers. (But then again, Id struggle to recall wearing a pair of bermudas in the last 4years; so that possibly wouldn't be the wittiest of analogies.)

When it comes balancing my oaths to buisness and home life, like many other, angst brimming members of the self employed clan; I incessantly seem to find my self, immersed in the murky Grey waters.

Balancing two of life's most juiciest ingredients, is one thing. But, when your job is also your passion (cripes that word makes me vomit) a lucrative pay packet, doesn't always mean a personal success. Nor does several years hard graft, result in a handsome bonus, company car and a corner office...

But the again, why the duck, would I desire any of that mainstream carryon anyway?

Ill stick to my craggy, crab ridden atlantic workspace,

and my kick-ass candy coloured, four wheeled, form of transport.

Better views + firmer butt = I nil to Raph.

But seriously....

Every 2nd conversation and every last scoric of the the world-wide-web, is jammed with study's on the difficulties, the 'modern day mother' faces in juggling her eggs and ambitions.

But do the childless and even single workforce of the world, not face equally tormenting issues? Do we not strive for stronger and happier relationships? Fitter and healthier bodies and minds. And just quite possibly crave snatching a moment, to make a memory, away from our time greedy professions.

You wouldn't be foolish in thinking that self employment, is the key to all of this, work/life balance hoopla. After-all, we determine are own schedules; were the captain of our own ship, right? Well apparently not. Certainly not in the guilt ridden, anxiety-fied McNamara case anyway. With my office in my hand, my office in my home and yet Im rarely sleeping in my own bed. I do tend to feel like im wondering around in the dark, with a certain flickering sign, hovering over my head.