You know how anorexics have that strange loss of reality where at a certain point they stop being able to see or understand what “attractive” or “healthy” means? You know those 80-pound women still convinced that they have fat thighs, even as their skin visibly droops off of their exposed, sad little femurs?

I am the same way — but with happiness, success, and contentment. Lately, I’ve been this ball of perspective-less free-floating anxiety, somehow convinced that I’m just not doing enough and that secretly it’s all going to shit. Oh sure I have a book out, but my Amazon sales rank is unacceptable and publicity needs to be stepped up. Oh sure I just got a great job that will let me work part time doing stuff I like doing while giving me great benefits and financial security, but should I have taken it full time? Oh sure I have a great home, but it’s in the burbs and I’m a urbanite and if only I didn’t have to drive so much! Oh sure I have an amazing husband, but do I spend enough time doting on him? Clearly, I’m doing it all wrong.

Basically, I’m that scary little woman staring at her sad little femur whining, “If only I tried a little harder, this could be better.”

The job I’m starting next month includes the words “Content Manager” in the title, and a friend asked me a pointed question: “Is that CAHN-tent Manager or Cuhn-TENT manager?” If I was ever hired on as Manager of Contentment, I would have some serious challenges, because evidently I suck at being content. I can write content, but I have trouble being content.

This bug is a feature, of course. It’s part of what makes me so ambitious and driven and hyper-motivated all the time. But when is good enough? When do I let myself sit back and say “Ahhh, good job, Me! Way to go!”? Andreas wrote a while back about how according to recent studies, the secret to happiness is low expectations. How do you balance this then with the concept of manifesting greatness? I try to visualize my own success and happiness a lot, but then downside is that there’s always something more to be manifesting. MUST! BE! HAPPIER!

I’m certainly not alone in this conundrum. It’s the American way, isn’t it? Driven by capitalism and the lingering effects of a protestant work ethic, we’re always holding the American Dream in our minds, but it’s a slippery beast. There’s no exact picture of what it actually is, and so you’re constantly trying to ferret it out, working hard, trying more, keeping growth at an incline rather than just a flat-line. You can never be to rich, too skinny, or even too enlightened because oh yes, keeping up with the Joneses happens with spiritual exploration, too.

I guess the moral of the story is that as Contentment Manager, I have a long way to go. Every day this week I’ve freaked out about something that’s more than perfectly fine. I can type these words and understand them intellectually, but even as my sad little femur pokes out, I tell myself I’ll do better next week.