Throwing Poo

My task this week was to compile all the critical points from the previous ten Now What? posts and try to piece together my purpose in life.   My thought was that I'd paste together this collage of ideas and then stare at it until I had a Keyser Soze moment.

Yeah, well, that didn't really work.  Even though I gave it the old college try - probably a poor choice of clichés because, for me, "the old college try" simply means subsisting on Cream of Wheat while getting high and watching daytime television -  I just couldn't concentrate.  Maybe my focus was blurry because of Valentine's Day and the accompanying marital duties I would be expected to vigorously perform; the relentless blizzard conditions; or the fact that I've got to spend two of the next three weeks at work conferences. 

If you have read this blog before, you know that I fucking HATE work conferences.  I'd rather spend a day mopping up on the set of a German porno production than in meetings with my boss.  Attempting to conjure the limits of what I'd rather do than spend two weeks in meetings with my boss takes me to a place so dark and frightening that only the word "REDRUM" can describe it.

So, with all this weighing on my mind, I was unable to get anything significant accomplished this week.   It's probably for the best, though.  Since so much of my anxiety is work related, it would have likely skewed the results.  

Never go grocery shopping when you're hungry.