I am chronically and severely disorganized. Woefully and malignantly disorganized. A look at any space I inhabit including the desktop of my computer says it all. The brain's not much better. I am starting to wonder if it is a kind of brain damage. Surely it results from the countless times that I have bashed my head against this car door, that wall (throwing back my head to laugh, of course), and crashing into so and so's forehead when I misjudge the distance coming in for a kiss too quickly...
It's horrific the amount of time I have burned up doing the same thing over and over again. I have written and re-written the same section over and over again realizing, too late that I am retreading what I "accomplished" the day before. Writing the same outline yet again. Cataloguing the same data files over and over as if this next time there will be something actually new and interesting about it that justifies my existence and the last nine years of my life. Afraid to even look at it. Looking up in exhaustion to see that I have spun my wheels yet another day without making any visible progress.
As a periodic self-help junkie, I have read books on time management, making time for your life, effectiveness, and procrastination. They say (THEY) that the things that you do in life can be divided by the 80-20 rule. It goes something like this: only 20% of everything that you think you have to do, really needs to get done. If you can figure out what's in that 20% and get it done you'll get like 80% of the satisfaction of accomplishment and you'll be moving forward towards whatever it is that your little heart desires. And vice versa the other 80%, not so important. You can do it but it won't do that much for you or make you feel that great. It's matter of recognizing and acting on your true priorities.
One thing to know and understand this, quite another to do it.
There is the fear naturally. Which I can discuss endlessly. Another post, perhaps. =) And there is the greed. I want it all and right now. Every moment and decision is a experience of the tension of opposites, of wanting things that are equally desirable yet mutually exclusive. The appeal of the potential of a thing, an opportunity - I find to be intoxicating. And I spazz in all directions or sit, paralyzed. Either way, the same immobility.
Oh,and the whole short attention span thing? Reflected even in my impulse to throw an undercurrent of nested parenthetical remarks into this post (Reinforced by reading all those stuff-as-many-connected-and-tangentially-related-facts-into-one-endless-subordinate-clause-ladden-breathelss-sentence scientific papers {I used to diagram Ben Lewin's sentences in Genes IV just to try to find the verb of the main clause.} makes me wonder if I am going to be able to get this damn thing done.
I wanted to liken my brain to a car trip with driver whose foot is on the gas or the brake at all times. The discontinuousness makes your neck hurt and your stomach churm. ( Don't you hate drivers like that?!) But it is my head and on reflection, it all makes sense to me and maybe only to me, no queasiness or neck pain. Just stress guilt frustration and shame.). I vacillate between abject panic, deep concentration, and suffocating boredom.
There's references to look up and images to analyze. And those Frostian miles on a snowy road.
*kiss*
*grin*
*sigh*
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