Since the 1980s, I've had friends, coworkers and employers who understood my value, my talents, education and expertise in many areas, from food service, janitorial and customer service to interior decorating, wardrobe styling, screenwriting and investigative journalism. I strive for perfection in everything I do and the pressure I've put on myself to succeed – at all costs  has, in fact, cost me my health, and my future, as I struggle with the painful, debilitating effects of an incurable disease that is slowly destroying me from the inside out (T2 diabetes).

I try not to say no to anything, any request, from a client:

⨳ You've just had a car accident and you need my help with the police, lawyers, the media, unexpected absence from work and personal issues like paying bills and hiring a physiotherapist to help you get back on your feet? Don't worry, I'll take care of it.

⨳ It's 3AM, you're in a taxi, headed to the airport, and you just remembered you left your laptop on the kitchen counter? No prob. I'll go fetch it and meet you at the departure gate.

⨳ You're throwing a little get-together and need a bartender/server to keep the food and drink flowing 'til 4AM. Yeah...I can do it – but I want the leftovers.

⨳ You need a compassionate, helping hand as you return home from an abortion clinic, plastic surgeon or weeklong jail sentence for DUI? Hey, I've got your back.

⨳ Dropped your wedding ring in a toilet full of puke? OK, ummm, just gimme a second to mentally prepare myself for the plunge.

⨳ Your maid quit? Sure, I can clean your 10,000 square foot home every fucking day until I can hire and train a new one.

⨳ Need help memorizing lines for the blockbuster movie you've just been cast in? Let's get together and act out every bloody fucking scene you're in, over and over and over again, until you know every word. Cuz, y'know, I have no life of my own.

I don't like to let people down, and I greatly value my professional reputation. But I'm sick, now. And what few clients I have left, as I slowly ease into retirement (on disability pension), still expect me to be their beck-and-call-girl. Their rock. Their problem-solver.

The latest example of me leaving -- and later returning to -- a client because they discovered, much to their dismay, that I am not a superworman who can do everything, solve every problem and ALWAYS be there, no matter what, is really starting to irritate me.

Cut me some slack, man...I'm dyin' over here!