Focus
I constantly distract myself from the worries at hand.
When I’m supposed to be writing, I clean my apartment, instead.
When my apartment desperately needs cleaning, I work on my budget.
When my finances look bad, I fret about my love life.
When my love life falls apart, I write.
Every day I work towards working on the task at hand. I push myself closer and closer, like when you push two magnets together at the wrong poles. But I know that, some day soon, like that magnet, I’ll spin around and click into place.
That’s when I’ll be content. Perfectly comfortable. All my ions lined up. All my energy flowing in the right direction.
