I'm a list maker. I make a list for everything. I even make lists of lists. I write very carefully, sometimes starting over on a new sheet of paper if I don't like my handwriting or I screw up a word. I like to use pretty stationary or a nice, crisp sheet of lined paper. And scratching out anything isn't allowed until I'm crossing it off as complete.
I like to number my listed items, too. And yesterday, when I was adding tasks to my running "Action Items" list, I broke a hundred. 101 things to do. I mean, I know everyone has 101+ things on their plate. That's called life. But it sorta hits differently when you see them all lined up like dominoes in front of you. Do this. Do that. Check, check, check. I'm keeping busy. Sometimes too busy... the kind of busy where you suddenly realize how overwhelming everything is and you Ctrl+Alt+Del yourself and go into sleep mode because moving forward on a single thing seems too hard and too tiring and you can't do the simplest of things because even something like breathing is too much. I'm busy. And I guess that's a good thing.
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July 2019
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