fly on the wall

I know I'm easily distracted.  This morning I presented like a case study of impulsivity and good intention.  Alone in the house with my mental to-do list, it occurs to me and I smile.  Flitting between tasks, making stations of unfinished thinking.  Starting coffee, preparing oatmeal, logging on, shooting the sky, playing fetch with ging, opening blinds and windows...fill the Cuisinart with beans and press start, empty the bottom rack, add raisins and nuts and brown sugar and wheat germ, frame the red leaves with the white cloud, fill the dog's water bowl.  A fly on my wall would be dizzy watching my moves. 

And my mind moves too:  Oh, I forgot to turn on music.  I should start a load of laundry and fold this pile. The sky is beautiful today.  Thank you God for sunshine.  Where is that list I wrote Saturday?  Should check those due dates and send that letter and call that office.   Grrr, I don't want to think about job hunting.  Something's missing...yep, my coffee mug.  There, that's better.  Where to begin?

 ADD, absent minded, flighty, laid back, unconcerned, living in the moment, day by day, one at a time.  I've been described.  I've self-described.  I see me.  No pill will teach my brain to rewire a lifetime of patterns.  No psychologist will succeed in redirecting my cognition.  Logical answers don't exist to explain my reasons.  Or my rhyme.  Fly by the seat of my pants and land softly where I belong.  Here.

Stuff gets done.  Tasks added.  People called, contacted, reminded, and greeted.  Paper pushed and piles pondered.  Lists linger.  Interesting intentions intertwine with exacerbated expectations.  Hardness points inward.  Should, could, would.  Do your best and be honest about the rest.  Deep breaths and gentle stretches refresh body and soul.  Move forward.  Just move.  Outcomes will step offline and results will be reviewed.  Necessary processing done patiently.  Done.  One way or the other, done.