I tried something different today; I ate brunch before writing. I now have caffeine in me and caffeine gives superpowers. That makes not knowing what I’m going to write about particularly bad.
Before I had my coffee I couldn’t even remember what I did yesterday; now I do. I went into the City to get 55¢ bagels from Bagel Bob’s. That’s going to become my default Monday plan. Perhaps it’s the result of the heavy inbreeding of my Ashkenazi heritage but no bread goes as well with breakfast as a bagel, not an English muffin, nor the finest brioche. Bagels make me happy and are therefore worth the trip. Whenever I go there I also stop at nearby Trader Joe’s. I just remembered what I forgot to get there, Kerrygold Irish butter. There are not a lot of specialty items I will pay extra for but that’s one of them.
I’m stuck now at the bottom of a potential well. This happens often, I need a catalyst to initiate action. I can’t even get this written and I have other things to do. I usually attribute this to anxiety, but perhaps it’s not. I don’t know. I do no that discussing it causes deep anxiety. Writing this paragraph is making me anxious. Not blogging also makes me anxious. Not doing the other things I need to do makes me anxious. Today I’m going to do the one thing I promised my therapist. She was very concerned that I didn’t do it last week. It’s not something scary. It’s something I very much want to do. It’s something I fantasize doing. Yet getting started is difficult. It’s so much easier to say, I’ll do it after X. Then when I’m finished with X, I say, OK, I just have to do Y first. Then I run out of letters, and run out of time, and say, I’ll do it tomorrow.
That is the story of my life. It’s my biggest problem, the source of most of the others. This isn’t funny. It isn’t inspiring. It isn’t getting you thinking along new lines. It’s just me being honest. If I write anything more it becomes part of putting off the thing I need to do so I’ll leave it here.
Wise Madness 