I should have an office pony. Something straight out of Thelwell, with a bushy mane as wide as its body, sparkly-painted hooves, and short enough to use as a portable laptop stand. I’m convinced that this should (and will) happen one day. Just ask my coworkers how often “little horses” come up in conversations with me.
I have a long list of “shoulds.” Most are pony-delightful, but not all of them; some like to sneak in and push my limits—the devious suckers. Those shoulds are the kind that adore instilling doubt, delaying decisions, and convincing us we need to incessantly reach and achieve and exhaust. It takes guts to tackle that kind of should. They play the long game, and they always seem to crop up during tests of our fortitude. They love to mess with our heads.