Walks past a pile of papers inexplicably left on the landing leading downstairs
I should pick those up. No. No. I can’t. It’s too hard. OMG life is so fucking hard, I don’t have time for ANYTHING.
Goes to brush teeth and sees toothpaste film coating the counter where she lays her toothbrush every day. It’ll take three seconds to wipe that up. There are Clorox wipes under the sink.
Sigh. No. No I can’t do that right now. It’s too much. I’ll do it tomorrow. Fuck, I need to clean the whole bathroom. Tomorrow. Next week sometime. Maybe next time someone comes over.
There’s socks on the stairs, hey, I should pick them up, fuck why is this so difficult???
*Cue existential and identity crisis brought on by socks leading to questions such as: where the fuck am I going with my life? and, Why don’t we have any aluminum foil?
Six weeks later….
I’m going to start another business doing something I love, oh and let’s paint the bathroom this weekend and I can totally start writing that book I’ve had rolling around in my head for a week. I can start a podcast too! I’m also applying for this job over here so we are going to have to upend our entire routine but it’s cool, I can handle that even though I have been working 70 hour weeks from home for 6+ years and have no memory of how to interact with people and I’m going to organize my notebooks: one notebook for all the books I’m going to read this year, one notebook for writing blurbs and ideas, one notebook for lists of things I need to know more about, one notebook for the TV shows I need to binge, one notebook for goals and big picture to-dos for the year, oh and we should go to Costco and buy everything in bulk, really stock up on everything, you know, like, aluminum foil, toilet paper (but only if it’s the puppy paper), and Sun Chips and obviously we NEED the giant tub of pretzels. I know we don’t even eat the bags of pretzels we buy but we will eat THESE because they’re in a giant clear barrel.
Dopamine. It doesn’t fuck around.