
Work-life balance is a myth. An oxymoron if I've ever heard one.
Ten weeks after the birth of my first baby, I was back at work. (I'm from the US where there's no such thing as paid maternity leave aside from a few select states that provide at least some degree of compensated time off).
At the time, I was in a healthcare start-up company where I was expected to 'pull my weight' and clock in for 10 to 12 hours a day, no matter what.
At 7.30am every weekday morning, I would lumber to the train station - looking like a straight-up zombie from The Walking Dead - to start my excruciatingly long day.
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Struggling mightily with the demands of being a new parent, and working for a boss who made Bill Lumbergh from Office Space seem reasonable, was about as far from the so-called work-life balance as I could get.
In fact, it was more like someone tied a ball and chain around my ankle, tossed me in the ocean, and wished me the best of luck as I tried to keep my head above water.