The No. 1 Thing - Or Somewhere Near There - On The List Of Things I Hate: Conundrums.

You know how throughout the day you watch yourself from the ceiling? Yes? No? Regardless, I keep a vigilant watch over the person on the ground who is supposed to be me and feel an utter disconnect, a sort of hollow sinking feeling, but no urgency whatsoever to intervene. I will never be a good watchdog. And yet when not watching, I feel a sense of panic that someone is going to sneak up behind me and I'll be kicking myself for not having paid better attention.



I need space but hate feeling alone.



I crave silence, only to freak out once I get it because there's nothing to compete with the racket in my head.



I want independence but all the to-do's that come with it make my head spin.



I want to see people I never hang out with but it's overwhelming just thinking about putting something together. I feel like a horrible friend (because I am) but there's so many steps, too many notes, that go with fixing that.



I crave knowledge but have the attention span of a goldfish - about 3 seconds.



I know what's good and logical in the political game of the body but lobby against motion after motion.



I tell myself I can do moderation, which is funny, but I sure as hell try to believe myself.



I still hope my brother will figure things out, and yet I am proven wrong again and again. Waiting for stupid people to change is a new form of self-flagellation, self-torture. I ask again and again and expect them to have changed, even though I know it's ridiculous. I still wait. It's not his fault I guess, she has his brain in a jar.



I want relationships and run at the first sign of them.



I want to sleep but am afraid to.



I tell myself the numbers don't matter, but they always will.



I want it to be full and empty at the same time.





I'd really like some peace and quiet, but not the lonely kind - I haven't found a fix for that just yet. I'd like to actually concentrate and finish a book. I'd like to cook a meal that is both edible and does not involve simply pouring milk over corn pops. I'd like to find an apartment that allows pets.

I'd also like answers, because this waiting game you're playing with me is not amusing in the least. Your gloomy halls smell musty and your waiting room calls for hand sanitizer about every 2-3 minutes. This is what you'd call "immersion therapy" for people with OCD. Thanks very much for the gesture, doc, but I'm fine with mine...mmm...counting and lock checking. Good times. When you see me I feel under the gun and can't seem to string a sentence together to save my life. I also can't seem to do anything right, in your eyes. Perhaps you've heard things about me, I don't know. It's entirely possible.