I have so much to do. It’s a phrase muttered often as I sit at my computer trying to keep my mind on all that stuff I have to do, rather than what it’s on instead. If I could simply keep my focus, I might be able to finish all the tedious stuff so I can write. But do I? Of course I don’t.
Today my goal was to be done by noon. It’s now after 1:00, and I’m at least a couple hours away from doing what I want to do instead of what I have to do.
Distraction plagues me, and I seem to have temporarily lost the ability to combat it. I’m sure my mother-in-law would suggest taking B12. Good advice. But in the meantime, I need to find the off switch for my wandering mind.
I need to write. It isn’t a want, it’s a need. I hate it when I can’t, whether it’s because I have so many other things to do, or because when it comes down to it, I can’t focus on that either.
It isn’t possible to count the number of people who tease me, criticize me, make comments to me about how much I accomplish in a day, week or month. They roll their eyes sometimes and ask me if I ever give myself a break. And yet, here I sit, agonizing about how much I’m not accomplishing.
It’s all relative, n’est pas?
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