Baked beans

I feel scatterbrained. Scattershot? I feel scattered. Activities I thought of as one fluid task now feel like multiple tiny ordeals. Like putting on one sock, then having to remember to put on the other one. Or my nighttime bathroom routine, once so easy, now hopelessly fragmented. A shattered bathroom mirror on the tile floor.

Other times I find myself standing still, unable to decide which of countless things to do first. I don't have time to count the number of things on the list. I need to wash the dishes, I need to hide the liquor from my brother, I need to sort the laundry, to make sure I brought everything in off the porch. I can't forget to pull my iPod from the sound dock before I leave and I must remember to pack my running shoes. I'll be thinking of all these things and I won't know what to do first because as soon as I start doing one of them I might forget the other ones.

I think I should do the most important one first. But which one is most important?

And shit, wait: I probably won't forget the most important ones anyway. So I should do one of the other ones. Get the stupid ones out of the way while I'm thinking about them. No way I'd forget the important stuff. Do that later.

This is how you find yourself sorting baseball cards at 1:00am, baked beans congealing in the base of a yellow pot.