I don’t know why I ever bother trying to figure out what’s going on in my head, really, when all I have to do is sit down and start writing something. Anything. And just let it go in the direction it wants. There’s generally an answer at the end.
This was proven to me again yesterday. As I said, I’ve been having trouble concentrating on any one thing for long. I went for a walk, came home thinking about autumn leaves and times of rest, and ended up writing a blog post that basically answered my confusion about the trouble concentrating.
I think my mind, my subconscious especially, is essentially recompiling, adjusting to a radically different chosen path for the future. Adjusting self-image (from Steph-the-secretary to Steph-the-animal-worker-to-be), goals for short term and long term… all that kind of thing. Preparation on a deeper level, I guess.
Now maybe, if I can put my motivations for getting things done in terms of that kind of preparation, I can actually concentrate. We can hope, right? Not getting things done that need doing is getting a tad stressful, and getting them finished would make life so much nicer.