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Restraint (or lack thereof).
(5 minute read.)
Let a thousand flowers bloom?
Thinking of things as 'work' rather than 'projects' is how I keep it from collapsing. Not with calm or discipline, god no. With practiced delusion. By convincing myself it’s manageable—which it sort of is. Because it has to be.
Each project feels like its own weird little island. But underneath, it's all just work. This one. That one. Next…
Just how many projects? I don't know, I stopped counting. The numbers had become meaningless, it's all 'work'.
And so I just keep moving… working on whatever’s in front of me. When that’s done, I pick up what’s next. Like a one-person assembly line powered by stubbornness and oatcakes. Gotta eat. The tequila ran out some time ago.
This is how I avoid overwhelm. My survival guide for being chronically overcommitted. Pretending it’s all the same job.
So this is my gig.
Inspiration and creativity.
Too little discipline and self-restraint.
And with a dose of functional madness.
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