My head space, catalogued in poetry

There are too many things to do.
The too many things to do are all individually meaningless.
I don’t know what the things to do are.
Other people who do know don’t care; but they want me to care with better doublethink than they need to show.
I want to do all these things better than anyone else.
I don’t want to do any of them.
I have things of my own I want to do.
I don’t know what those things are.
I don’t want to do those things either.
The things I have to do are preventing me from doing the things I want to do, or even knowing what those things are.
I care about (some) students and (some) colleagues and want them to care about me.
I can’t muster the energy to do anything about it.

This is mostly written by Z, in response to a request for a new analysis of my current malaise. It seems to be working. As is a gift from the same source: The Lost Tales of H.H. Munro, finally available in book form. Ya gotta laugh.

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2 thoughts on “My head space, catalogued in poetry

  1. I find making pancakes to Billy Idol’s Dancing with Myself sometimes helps my malaises. Hang in there!!

    PS. Pancakes are optional, really just spending two-minutes doing a task that is completely “worthless” and yours can help stick it to the busy work deities!

    PPS. My two-minutes normally spills over because the song is like 7 minutes, by I say I’m worth it.

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