The heat is on and I can feel myself sweating like a tall glass of water in a fire. Or a sausage at a barbecue. Or a late person at Town Hall. Or myself on the Central Line.
I’m getting the phrases confused because I may or may not be losing my mind. I digress.
We’ve got exactly two months left and that is not much time at all. I mean, it’s more than one month but it is far less than three or eight.
I can count how many days we have left. I’m not going to, because that sounds like a surefire way to get bored. I just know its roughly under 60 and that I can count to at least 100.
It doesn’t really feel like a lot of time to improve as much as I had planned. I had assumed that by this point there would have been a sense of somewhat knowing what I’m doing.
I don’t know what I’m doing!!! Or who I want to work for!!! Or where I want to go!!!
How do people know this stuff? How am I supposed to know? Been wracking my poor, little, frazzled brain remains for clues. I suspect that I shall never know and just have to do and see what happens.
When the brain is all dazed and confused like this, it struggles with speeds. Let me explain, it is either super speedy and like waaaah aaaah waaaaaaaah nyeeeeeeon with high-pitched beeping and hazard lights flashing. It gets really overwhelmed and struggles to juggle all of the thoughts and tasks that need to get done RIGHT NOW. The flipside is the organ equivalent of an unseasoned bean burger patty. Nobody wants that.
There’s a feeling that I’m constantly wasting my time. Tea break and gossip in kitchen? Throw your laptop down and get feedback. Toilet break for being mega hydrated? Must work on SMPs on back of toilet door. 11 minute bus journey? Should’ve scamped a poster campaign.
I’m beginning to think this whole commute thing is taking up valuable time in my schedule and that I could amplify my output if I holed up in the pit and made my bed on a sofa.
The thing is, I suspect that this is just the extension of that feeling where nothing is ever truly finished and you’ll never ever be satisfied.
Not entirely sure what the solution is. I’m just sure that I’m not the only one feeling this.
I guess there’s not a whole load I can do the appease my slow loss of sanity. Just going to keep making lists, ticking some things off, then making new ones.
Gonna keep clearing my scratch disks, having bad ideas, talking to mentors, trying to art direct, writing copy, finding a brand, tidying strategy, panicking, crying, sweating, laughing, snacking, complaining, and all the other fun stuff we do.
Just gotta keep doing. Just gotta do. Just do. Do it, just!
There’s not much time for me, until I’m released like a dove at a wedding. Out in the real world, ready to earn money for snacks and rent. All I ask, is that you pray for me. And someone tells me what to do. Someone, please, send help.