I have so much to say, but never know where to begin.
I am terrible at making long stories short. My attempts to keep them short usually lead me to into tangents that make the actual story shorter than my version. So bear with me.
My desk is a mess. You might not see it, because I hide my mess in an organized pile of folders and shoved into drawers. It is quite a clear reflection of what it is like to think like me. My desk is a mess, yet I know where everything is. Well, sort of. If you ask me for those very important papers that I put in the very safe place…yeah, I probably don’t know where I put them. Yet, if you ask me where that random scrap of paper that I doodled hearts and stars on…I bet I can tell you exactly where to find it.
Writing is like learning. When you learn something, you know you have mastered the skill when you can teach it to others. To me, when I am feeling in control of my life…I can write about it to others.
As you can see…generally, my thoughts are scattered. My mind is never in one place and even when I am focused, I am multi-tasking in my brain. Sometimes I feel like my body is on auto pilot while my brain is somewhere else. Most of the times, I feel like I could just fall asleep where I stand. I can’t remember the last time I really felt AWAKE.
Pressure. Stress. Happiness. Love. Fear. Anxiety. A wicked cycle.
I always have something to do, yet somehow, I tend to get it all done. Usually at the very last minute, right before the clock strikes midnight and I turn into a pumpkin. I have so many responsibilites. Between my family, friends and work…I have so much to do. I can conclusively say that I have so much to do for all of these responsibilities…yet, it is all my fault and my doing. I wish I could say that I do things for them. Just for my family. Just for my friends. Just for my job. However, I do it for me. It makes me feel good to be the go-to girl…the “if I have a problem, I will go to her” girl….the “we’re so glad we can depend on you” girl. In a past life, I must have been a puppy. All I ever want is for others to pet my head and tell me that I am doing a good job. “Good girl” I yearn for them to say.
I am able to juggle all of the this and that….spinning plates on sticks without letting any of them drop, while I am whistling “Yankee Doodle” and dancing the two-step. All the while, feeling like I am sleep walking through a dream…waiting for the moment when my eyes will open…
I have so much to say…but where do I begin?
jesmogrego 