Sentences with phrase «guilt ridden every time»

I am not guilt ridden every time I eat.

Not exact matches

But, relaxing in the sun, Bannon had some time to reflect and come up with a new and healthier model for thinking about vacations — one other guilt - ridden business owners might benefit from.

If you find yourself currently in a guilt - ridden relationship, it is time to come out into the open.

And, while experts strongly encourage exclusive breastfeeding for six months, at the same time, new moms shouldn't be stressed out in order to meet this goal — nor should they be guilt - ridden if they decide to supplement with formula or stop nursing.

Guilt - ridden busy moms and dads take heart: Mothers — and fathers — across most Western countries are spending more time with their children than parents did in the mid -»60s, according to a University of California, Irvine study.

While screenwriter and first - time director Philippe Claudel scores in casting Kristen Scott Thomas, who subtly grounds her reserved performance in reality, his grief and guilt - ridden script is full of all - too - convenient contrivances, augmented by Jean - Louis Aubert's foreboding musical score.

After a visually - enchanting, Koyaanisqatsi - like, opening featuring time - lapse photography of dawn gradually breaking over the horizon, we're introduced to our guilt - ridden hero who is already embroiled in a messy love triangle.

I can't tell you how many times I've meant to amuse and delight my adoring legion of fans with a manly heroic pose or moving lute solo but have instead unleashed fiery death from my hands, giving the poor townsfolk a terrifying memory that no amount of guilt - ridden gifts will ever truly ease.

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.