In my House, God Dries the Dishes...

...now if I could only get them washed as well. Sorry CG, I had to steal it, it was just too good. Now, how does this factor into this entry? Not a lot, other than it jelled as I was washing up the dishes. The actual epiphany happened this morning while driving into work.

I have been trying to think of a politically correct of stating what I am about to say, but nothing has come to me, so I'm just going to say it.

Holy shit...I really need to slow the fuck down. I have turned into that crazy meth head in the corner frankensteining a vacuum, blender and a super-nintendo into some stupid new invention that will revolutionize the weekend pharmaceutical addict. I actually sat down and thought about the list of projects (completely un-work related) I've got on the go and realized that with the amount of stuff I'm working on, I don't foresee all of them getting finished in my lifetime, and with no progeny to continue them, the projects die with me. All things considered, that's probably not the crime of the century, but leaves me with the thoughts of how did I get myself wrapped up in so many things. I'm not going to list them, because the list is pretty ridiculous and I really don't feel like thinking about everything I'm not going to get finished (and mainly because I'm pretty sure I'll end up adding things to the list). At some point over the last few years I have lost the ability to relax. Whenever I'm just sitting around watching TV or whatever, I'm constantly thinking about what else I could (but not necessarily should) be doing. I used to be able to relax. I remember that, albeit somewhat hazily, as if it was in some past life, or told to me by some great grandparent the way you pass down family history.

"Back in ought six we used to watch the stones under the fire to see if they would crack. Twas nothing to wait for 17 days or so in front of the fire just to see one crack. Twouldn't eat or sleep or go to the washroom, but just watch the stones. Now that was relaxing, until one cracked of course, them we would all be hootin' and hollerin' until Uncle Efrem would tell us to shut the hell up lessen we wake up ole Auntie Stump."

The epiphany came about when I realized how I ended up with so many things on the go. Normally I don't stay single for very long, and now I know why (besides all the usual reasons). I'm used to some one looking at me and saying, "What the hell do you think you're doing? It's two in the morning. Put down that socket wrench and come to bed and pretend to sleep". Without someone to keep me in check I just let my crazy aspirations take their course and I don't filter them. You see, tragically, I was born without any filtering processes whatsoever, so I usually rely on someone else to do my filtering for me. It's like I have all the monkeys working on Hamlet in my house, but occasionally they actually get a line correct, which makes all the monkeys work even harder trying to come up with the next line. Problem is they don't know which lines are right so they just keep bashing away.

The long and short of it is, I think I know the solution, now I just have to do something about it, and figure out how I'm going to hide a few dozen monkeys.