Problem Identified

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I think I’ve finally pinpointed the single issue that holds me back from being the epitome of a rock star superhero.

I am easily overwhelmed.

I have a lot of weight to lose. I will need to commit to at least a year of rigorous eating and exercise to get to a healthy place. 12 months. Wow. That’s a long ass time, you guys. So my reaction to that is, “Eh, might as well have a piece of cake.”

I have a shit ton of things to do today. Garage sale items to price. 2 chapters to write, 1 to refine. I should clean up my desk and straighten my office. I need to list some stuff on Craig’s list and eBay. Finish the FAFSA. Make a few calls. Clean shit. It’s going to be a slog. Not fun. Instead of breaking out my sharpie and stickers, making a to do list and finishing today with a shimmering halo of accomplishment, I say, “Fuck it, I’m going to Dollar Tree.”

I desperately want to write a novel that will be read and loved and laughed over by thousands, millions of readers. I want to do book signings, even though I’m pretty sure presenting myself to that many people will cause my head to explode. Instead, I write short stories with no redeeming value and publish them under a pseudonym.

I’m a disaster, you guys. And now that I’ve figured out why, I’m not really sure how to NOT be overwhelmed. Yes, I can make a small list of manageable goals, but I’m not a fucking hamster! I totally know that after I finish that small list of things, there are reams of other small lists to tackle.

Sigh. Being smart and self-aware is a mother-fucking burden.

I could hire a professional nag (they prefer the term life coach), but honestly, I’d just lie to them and say, “oh yeah, I totally got that done, I feel so self-actualized!” while shoving the half-finished stuff in a corner and covering it with an unwashed towel.

I’ve considered therapy again, but let’s be honest. I’d just schedule the therapy session to conflict with something I really didn’t want to do. “Aw, man, I just can’t…I have a therapy session.” *sad eyes*

I could bribe myself with wine, but I’d just drink the wine. Let’s not fool ourselves, okay?

OR I could get off the computer, quit navel-gazing and get shit done. Because I’m a grown-up and that’s what grown-ups do, or so I’m told.

Yeah. The last one.

Anyone wanna meet me at Dollar Tree? They’re selling wine now!

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