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February Focus: Day Two

“Comfortably Numb” was the theme of the day. And not because I listened to it about 16 times throughout the day, whether it was the original, the live, Van Morrison’s version, or the awful 2011 remaster. I just wanted to sit with myself and listen to it over and over again. And all the other responsibilities I piled onto my plate would just have to wait until I was ready to revisit them. But there’s just not enough hours in the day to consume them all, it seems.

I’m not sure what I’m running from. All I want to do is sleep, even though I’m not tired. I just want to close my eyes, opening them only when the world I’ve been dreaming about this entire time becomes real. Where my only obligation is to myself, because that’s who’s bringing in the money. I’m not beholden to a corporation, I’m generating my own wealth based on my contributions. I have an apartment that’s complete and clean that I never have to worry about selling. I’m in perfect shape and I can eat anything I want and never get fat. Alas, it’s all just a dream. And I can’t let my recipe for reality slip away with each passing second I’m not working to improve it.

It’s been difficult to do anything today. I had such lack of focus, which doesn’t work for a challenge such as this. I could not decide the best place to start. Should I work out first? Nap? Write? Just sit around and stare at the wall, all nice and comfortably numb? Perhaps I really did put too much on my plate for this month and am in over my head. It’s prophetic for it all to happen on Groundhog Day, as doing the same thing day after day is the way for me to parse out what I hope to accomplish. If I can find a routine for all my daily duties, then maybe I won’t feel so pressed for time when I’ve run out of steam and need to go to bed. Just like eating a balanced meal, there’s plenty of room for balance in my life, too.

Tomorrow is another day to try. I can find a way to fit everything in and not feel like it’s a slog to the finish line. I’d rather savor the meal than choke it down in a hurry. The child is grown, but the dream is not gone. Sorry, Pink Floyd.

Swears: $3.00
Cop flipped the siren at my stationary Uber for a second and I shouted WTF. Said the s-word twice in the control room. F-word and s-word talking to my co-worker. 1 s-word at home.

First Draft Word Count: 
540 words written today.

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