My Actual Work tends to happen in rapid, feverish bouts, spread apart by at least a few days. Lately the incentive has simply been proximity—something new is close, nearly tangible, and the number of obstacles standing in the way are few enough that I can envision them all at once.
Since Easter I’ve eaten so much junk. I have sugar headaches all the time, and my sleeping patterns are nil. Though as I recall they were quite the same during Lent, when the only mind-altering substance* I consumed was coffee, which started as a substitute for the caffeine I wasn’t getting from the soda I wasn’t drinking whose absence caused headaches much like the ones I have now.
To quote the voice in front of a great mind, “I got no patience and I hate waitin’.” Which isn’t precisely true—there are many things I’ve been waiting for for quite a while (to quote another voice, “I’ve been waiting for this moment all my life,” but that’s another story, which is also rather relevant, but a digression). I keep telling myself that in six months at the MOST, all of the reasons for my towering anxiety right now will have completely dissolved.
I’m purposely speaking vaguely here but I’ll tell you that most of this is about money. I’ve too many schemes running right now for all of them to burn up upon entrance, and I truly need so little to be so comfortable. I’d have to be trying to fail. I’d have to be, like, voluntarily causing myself pain, something that directly affects my mental faculties, and depriving my body of nutrients and rest and whatnot and reading a lot of blogs without really accomplishing anything and spending days at a time not finishing any Actual Work and uh oh