Somewhere deep down in the darkest depths of a previous post, I alluded to my having one of the worst months in the history of my life ever on the planet in this universe. Ever. Don’t worry, I know most readers don’t get past the first paragraph in one of my posts, let alone the penultimate, but I still hate you for not reading.
It’s not really fair to say “worst” without explaining in what way it’s been the worst. Neither family nor friends have fallen ill. I didn’t get arrested, get mugged, get my heart broken, get my apartment broken into, get into an accident, lose a job, or experience any other sort of disastrophic tragedy that would put me into an impossibly hopeless physical, mental, emotional, or financial situation.
When I say “worst,” what I am really referring to is my inability to keep up with this overwhelmingly frenetic pace that my life has reached. While I used to thrive on that kind of fast-lane lifestyle, careening at warp speed with my tailpipes on fire, this is undoubtedly unravelling at such a high speed that only teeny tiny dogs can sense it. My resumé doesn’t lie – every cliché “skill” on there is actually true for me, except for “team player.” (I have never have been a team player, never will be, and neither is anyone else, but I will save my thoughts on “teamwork” for another day.) I am a “multi-tasker.” I can juggle competing priorities. I am a master of time-management. However, never before in my life have I had so many different things going on, not only simultaneously, but all with the same critical-path urgency. I cannot prioritize priorities when everything is priority one.
But the worst part of it is that no matter how deeply I focus, how late I work into the morning, how much caffeine, nicotine, taurine and vitamin unnatural NRG I pump through my veins, I can’t seem to get a damn thing done. Oh, I get things done, but I can’t get them done.
For the 968 things that are going on in my life right now, not a single one of them is anywhere near done. Complete. Finished. Signed, sealed and delivered. I don’t mind having 968 things on my list of things to do. In fact, I love having a ToDo List. However, I have not been able to check off a single thing and it is. Driving. Me. Crazy.
According to my resumé, I am a goal-oriented person. I like objectives. However, more than setting goals, I love, love, love meeting them. I like to start a project, work feverishly on it, then finish it right before I keel over with exhaustion. Nothing, and I mean nada, gives me more satisfaction than finishing a project (well, there are some things, but let me put it to you this way. I see everything as a “project,” and for certain projects, the emphasis is on “finishing,” ‘k?)
I like to hand over a final deliverable. I like to check something off my list. Yes. I love checking off lists. Here’s a secret though. I like meeting goals so much that sometimes I set very very easy goals just so I can feel complete when I meet them. I like checking off lists so much that I put things on my list that don’t really need to be on a list, but I put them on there anyway, just so I can check them off. “Charge cell phone.” Who writes “charge cell phone” on a to-do list?!?! I do. I even write things on a list that I already did, just so I can see it on my list as checked-off. WTF? Is that cheating? Is it weird? Scratch that. Yes, lunatic, it is weird, but how weird is that? It is very very weird, but I can’t help it.
I think, I think it’s a sickness.
There has to be a name for this ailment, one of many from which I suffer, because I can’t be the only person who suffers from it. There has to have been at least one other person who has complained about it to a doctor, counselor, therapist (*ahem* or blog), which means it is documented, which means it would have obscure-German-doctor’s-last-name’s Syndrome, which means it is official, because if at least two people have it and it is documented, then it is a very real disease. However, searching through WebMD, there was nothing under “makeslistcompulsivelyorelsefeelsincomplete.” That must mean it’s something experienced by only me, in my head, not anyone else and that would make me…
A BASKET CASE.
Because I have not been able to check off anything from my list of 968 things in the last few months, I am a basket case. And that people, is the cause of some major writer’s block.
{ 2 comments… read them below or add one }
the battle against entropy is not an easy one, and you can never win, you can only survive as long as you can.
As you can see, I read past the first paragraph
I’m rambling here so please edit.
A little over compulsive maybe but I do not think there is a name for the ailment. These days, it seems NORMAL to have more goals than-you- need-to have-and-can-chew on your plate (I call it Bull). Where the more stuff you have on your plate means that you are a productive player in today’s frenetic-paced, always accessible, always ON and connected (but not really connected to anything or anyone really), in order to make you feel like you are a player in this larger-than-life-ever-evolving-technological arena; where who so ever can play, will reap the rewards of their belief that their input and time, and sleep deprived nights, and uber multi-tasking abilities – which makes us jacks and janes of all trades but masters of none, and being connected to the likes of WHO’S SPACE am I TWEETING into while I’m FACEing a BOOK to network all that’s going on, just to make you feel that you are an accomplished human when in fact all we are, are really dumb-ass worker ants who work harder, produce more, become neurotic, and then don’t really make that much money to compensate for all that we loose along the way. Because, when you take stock years later, our knees will be too old to go hiking, and our bodies and minds are either too tired or we loose the zeal to really want to go out and live life. By then, society won’t have a need for us because there will be a ton of young new goal-oriented worker-ants ready to take your place. The answer: live simply – and have two lists. The Sherika living-life-to-the-fullest list should be way longer than your worker-ant list.