What Was I Doing Again?

It’s been difficult to write blog posts lately.  I start writing them in my head, sit down at the computer, click my word processor button, and while I’m waiting for my computer to boot the program (a whole second), I boot another program.  While it’s booting I’ll have time to check everything on the internet right?  I really should read all of those blogs I follow, and, hey, there’s a link, that looks interesting.  Before I know it, I have 30-50 tabs open on my computer screen.  It’s 3 A.M.  I meant to go to bed by 4 at the latest.  It is time for bed.  But no, I can’t go to bed.  Not yet, because I forgot to eat today, and I forgot to do the dishes so that I could make food.  My work clothes are dirty and I should wash them.  Well, I’ll just start by filling up the sink and doing a presoak.  Then I’ll finish reading the tabs.  No, I’ll have a cigarette while I pace rabidly.  That’ll perk me up, help me focus.  I could have coffee, no tea, no, too much caffeine.  It’s 3:30 A.M. now, and I have to be to work by 2 P.M.  Maybe I should set everything out for tomorrow so that I’m not late for work.

Everything’s all “Wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey,” as a well known television Doctor would say.

 

Okay, I’m back inside from my cigarette.  I take off my glasses because they’re steamed up from coming in from the cold, and see my hotpot.  Right, tea.  I fill up my hotpot with water.  I’ll just sit down at the computer again, and then I’ll…well, it would be fun to play a video game, right?  I’ll just shut down the Apple side of my computer and load the Windows partition.  What, computer?  I still have fifteen tabs open?  I’d better read those.  Read 3 tabs, open 16 more.  I should really get up and make dinner, but I’ll just finish reading these.  Of course I won’t open any more webpages.  But this one looks interesting.  Okay, it’s opened.  I’ll read it in a couple of minutes, after I read this other stuff.

 

There’s that eerie water sound.  Oh, tea!  I wasn’t supposed to make tea, because that has caffeine and I need to sleep.  I guess I could drink something herbal.  I’m supposed to be making dinner.  There are those dishes in the sink that I’m supposed to be washing.  It’s getting really late.  I’ll just wash the ones I need for dinner tonight.  Maybe I can get up early, or I’ll do them the first thing when I get home from work tomorrow.   All right I’ve washed a pan and plate.  I’ll just set those down right here next to the hotpot.  Oh!  Tea.  Right.  Okay, set that down over there, where I can drink it once I’ve made dinner.

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Crud.  I’m tired.  One more cigarette then I’ll make dinner.  I swear.  Back inside, I finally pour my food into pans and start it heating.  While the butter is melting I might find the time to brush my teeth, and set out a few things for dinner, so I start doing that, but every 30 seconds I’m running back to look at the butter to see if it’s melted yet.  I’m not used to these electric stoves; my timing is off compared to work, but finally I get to dump in the hash browns.

 

I realize I can’t see.  Where did I put my glasses?  One of those fifteen spots I lay them down?  Oh, golly, I have a lot of clutter.  I really need to clean the house.  Tomorrow I’ll…

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The glare from the light in the kitchen is painful and pretty at the same time. Those streamers of light are so interesting. I wouldn’t be able to see them if I was wearing my glasses. I should really find my glasses.

 

I ask Mr. Wonderful if he’s seen my glasses, and the third great glasses hunt of the evening begins.  I should really stop taking those things off my face.

 

The hash browns needed to be flipped, now.  I ought to start the eggs.  Where’s that other pan?  I never washed it, of course.  Resume cooking dinner, but it’s dreadfully dull just waiting like this.  I’m used to have 50 meals going at once.  I’ll read a book.  By the time I finish making dinner I’ll remember the five other things I needed to wash to make/eat dinner.  I’ll set the book down, wash another dish, pick up another book.  Okay.  Dinners done.  I walk back over to my computer and realize that I forgot to bring dinner with me.  I start reading again.  Eventually an article reminds me of something in my house/Mr. Wonderful manages to get my attention.  I glance over.  My dinner is cold.  I eat a few bites of it.  “Five more minutes, please?  I promise.”  I mean what I say to him, but when I look up at the clock another 45 minutes have gone by.  Mr. Wonderful is giving me that look.

 

“What?” I demand defensively.  “If you’d stop distracting me, I could get this done.”

 

He sighs, “Nothing.”

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Yup. Mr. Wonderful looks just like this.

 

I look up from my computer fifteen minutes later.  “It’s not nothing.”

 

“Huh?”  Mr. Wonderful has given up on me and started playing a computer game.  I can’t think with all that noise.  I glare at him.  He rolls his eyes and puts on headphones, but I look at the clock and finally the panic clicks.  The effect of my procrastination has finally dawned on me: if I don’t get my act together now, work tomorrow will be like slogging through waist deep sludge.

 

“Fine,” I say, forcing myself to shut my computer down and dragging my dinner over to the television next to him.  “Let’s watch something.  I need to eat anyway.”

 

I will do everything I didn’t do today tomorrow.  I mean it this time.  I will be better.  I can’t sleep for thinking about the thousands of ways I will be better.

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This is probably how other people see me. Worse, I believe it about myself.

 

The next morning when I wake up and stumble groggily around my house, I will find a cup of tea that I never drank, a plate half full of food on the floor next to the couch, five books on the counters/dining room table/sitting on a chair.  I won’t know where my keys or glasses are.  I will be frantic that I am going to be late again, even though I set my alarm clock fifteen minutes earlier than the day before.  I can’t figure out where my coat is.  When I go to put on my work clothes, I realize that they are still dirty and I forgot to wash them.

 

I will do it all when I get home in the evening.  Except that I won’t.

 

But…this whole scenario?  That’s if I even get to my computer.  I think I might need my ADD medications back.  If only I could focus long enough to find my phone and call my doctor.

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