I am extremely overwhelmed right now. I have a big procrastination setting in, and I hope, since there are three days, I can overcome it in stages.
There is a big fight between my child's needs and his school. To some degree this has gone on all the years he's been there. Now, it's time to pull the state, legal assistance, and other experience into this. There is so much at stake, I need to really think. Plan. See consequences, consider the relative costs, and how much they affect each of my priorities. Then turn them to a weighted norm, and evaluate as much as I can the total effective plan with minimal consequence affects I wish to have occur.
There is, and has been a very serious fog in my mind. Multilayered, like the patchy fog that you see more dense in low areas, thinner at other heights, and a very cloudy day. What little light does come through is bright and painfully - the type of day where the blues and the ultraviolet burn hits the fog and ponds, causing a reflection that distracts and blinds with it's brilliant promise of a silver lining that unravels as I watch in a curious numbness.
I think I have the embers stoked, ready for a flame tomorrow, and hopefully a bright fusion of hope, accomplishment and perceived success that ends in the pre hypo-manic orgasmic plasma that fills, perhaps actually is, your sense of true self.
My small list overwhelms me because of my paranoia of failure. I've been told my bar has been set so high from past experiences and my "need for speed"... perhaps. Since it's mine, and I do occasionally achieve such "lofty" goals, perhaps, since that is when I am at my controled manic-not-quite-attention-deficit-might-be-truly-multitasking self... (which I LOVE!!!!)... I should always strive for that? The near perfection of balance between myself and skills and pitfalls from those skills? The creativity? The knowledge to know how to choose those who have the skills to finish what I start??? Where is that paranoia now??? Nowhere!!! Except, it is, right here, right now, and there is another place I'd rather be.
I'm just not sure where, the fog is too thick, too turbulent, too inviting yet threatening to deal with it, to deal with anything. The swirling patterns are pretty - hypnotically so. Constantly changing, yet changing in a consistent pattern. Then the parameters change yet again, quicker than my focus, but not quicker than I can keep up, fluctuating, curling, pulling and pushing, vortexing into fractal patterns of straight lines curving into the empty spaces of the ever thickening fog that has no emptiness anywhere within, or without. Yet, I see the pattern - know the pattern - it is me. Myself. As usual, my biggest supporter, my greatest resource, the bane of my birth, my nemisis, harbinger of the pain I constantly experience because of existance.