Boredom + Anxiety = F*cked

Image: Rory Bristol

Image: Rory Bristol

I do this thing when I’m bored, or a bird flies by, or someone clicks on their mouse a bunch of times, or… I just did it with my own post. I get bored, my mind drifts, and then I’m shocked into this moment of, “WTF just happened?!” It’d by okay if I were even moderately talented at covering it up. I’m really bad at that.

I sometimes end up commenting on a part of the conversation that has long since passed, or (worse), someone asks me a question, and I’ve got no idea what’s going on. Jenny, who really pays attention, can see it. I’m lost. I’ve no idea what people are talking about, and I’ve no good excuses. This is terrible peopling, mostly because people think I’m being rude.

Unfortunately, most of the problem is anxiety. Getting bored, no anxiety involved, I can keep up, no problem. Bored+Anxious=Fucked. My brain goes on these crazy field trips with the part of my brain that should be hanging out with the group. I end up analyzing all the wrong things.

It’s like going onto Wikipedia when you’re bored. Productivity? Gone. Bedtime? Fucked. Sleep on the night before a big interview? Bitch, please. You’re going to spend a ridiculous number of hours in the world’s most attractive rabbit hole. You’re never coming back.

That shit happens when I’m talking to people! Like, while words are coming out of my mouth!!

It’s a fucking mess.

I’m just going to use this excuse for the day: “Excuse me, my brain is on a safari. Can you call back later?

Too bad I have to see my psychiatrist today… For the first time since George left… Right before my birthday… I need some better excuses, ’cause I’m already running out of fucks.

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