Sentences with phrase «guilt about stopping»

Not exact matches

He's never pushy about sex like some guys I've dated, never tries to guilt me or pressure me into things, and has proven on several occasions that if I don't feel up to it or I need to stop halfway through, there are no hard feelings whatsoever.»

The trainer had recently discovered Halo Top and couldn't stop talking about it — the high of knowing he could eat a pint of the stuff a night and feel no guilt.

Unlike the Christian god that wouldn't ever change his mind or doctrine... except for cursing the world for eating an apple... except for telling Abraham to sacrifice his son, but then stopping him... and except for killing nearly all life on Earth and then because of the guilt says I'll never to do that ever again - in exactly that way... and except for deciding that 2 of himself (Father and Spirit) weren't enough any more, and creating / fathering / spiriting as Son... and except for forgiving all sin, when «In the beginning» he had cursed the universe for the eating of an apple, by having his creation torture and kill his only begotten Son... and except for having to repeat himself about the unchanging eternal rules, to Abraham, Moses, Jesus, Saul / Paul, Mohammed, Joseph Smith, Bahá «u «lláh, David Koresh, and a whole host of others... and except for... and except for...

Even though I stopped going there years ago, sometimes I still have guilt about not being a legalistic Sabbath keeper anymore.

Now one of the things that most appealed about this stop is that it was a true opportunity for us to beach it guilt free.

Then, when I finally decided to stop, I felt guilt about that, too, and dreaded bottle - feeding her.

We need to stop the guilt trips about breastfeeding sometimes breast is not always best; --LRB-

I know that the guilt won't go because of anything I say but I do hope you will stop feeling scared to talk about what happened.

I totally get what you're saying about the guilt of stopping when he's not ready... it's what's bought us this far.

Jamie - Lynn Sigler opened up on Instagram about feeling «guilt and sadness» for deciding to stop breastfeeding her baby due to her MS.

Seriously ditch that mommy guilt and stop worrying about those chores that need to be done and get some rest every possible moment you can.

But there are still boxes to tick in terms of moral lessons about guilt, revenge and (stop me if you've heard this one before) «family».

Watts manages to make her Edith seem genuinely remorseful about her actions but unable to stop, and Ruffalo puts a believable hint of guilt in Jack's face that he carries through the film.

CafeMakeup puts a stop to post-shopping guilt, helping you make informed decisions about beauty.

It went something like this: hotel check - in, locate room, locate wifi service, attempt connection to wifi, wonder why the connection is taking so long, try again, locate phone, call front desk, get told «the internet is broken for a while», decide to hot - spot the mobile phone because some emails really needed to be sent, go «la la la» about the roaming costs, locate iron, wonder why iron temperature dial just spins around and around, swear as iron spews water instead of steam, find reading glasses, curse middle - aged need for reading glasses, realise iron temperature dial is indecipherably in Chinese, decide ironing front of shirt is good enough when wearing jacket, order room service lunch, start shower, realise can't read impossible small toiletry bottle labels, damply retrieve glasses from near iron and successfully avoid shampooing hair with body lotion, change (into slightly damp shirt), retrieve glasses from shower, start teleconference, eat lunch, remember to mute phone, meet colleague in lobby at 1 pm, continue teleconference, get in taxi, endure 75 stop - start minutes to a inconveniently located client, watch unread emails climb over 150, continue to ignore roaming costs, regret tuna panini lunch choice as taxi warmth, stop - start juddering, jet - lag, guilt about unread emails and traffic fumes combine in a very unpleasant way, stumble out of over-warm taxi and almost catch hypothermia while trying to locate a very small client office in a very large anonymous business park, almost hug client with relief when they appear to escort us the last 50 metres, surprisingly have very positive client meeting (i.e. didn't throw up in the meeting), almost catch hypothermia again waiting for taxi which despite having two functioning GPS devices can't locate us on a main road, understand why as within 30 seconds we are almost rendered unconscious by the in - car exhaust fumes, discover that the taxi ride back to the CBD is even slower and more juddering at peak hour (and no, that was not a carbon monoxide induced hallucination), rescheduled the second client from 5 pm to 5.30, to 6 pm and finally 6.30 pm, killed time by drafting this guest blog (possibly carbon monoxide induced), watch unread emails climb higher, exit taxi and inhale relatively fresher air from kamikaze motor scooters, enter office and grumpily work with client until 9 pm, decline client's gracious offer of expensive dinner, noting it is already midnight my time, observe client fail to correctly set office alarm and endure high decibel «warning, warning» sounds that are clearly designed to send security rushing... soon... any second now... develop new form of nausea and headache from piercing, screeching, sounds - like - a-wailing-baby-please-please-make-it-stop-alarm, note the client is relishing the extra (free) time with us and is still talking about work, admire the client's ability to focus under extreme aural pressure, decide the client may be a little too work focussed, realise that I probably am too given I have just finished work at 9 pm... but then remember the 200 unread emails in my inbox and decide I can resolve that incongruency later (in a quieter space), become sure that there are only two possibilities — there are no security staff or they are deaf — while my colleague frantically tries to call someone who knows what to do, conclude after three calls that no - one does, and then finally someone finally does and... it stops.