with sprinkles, no, without

I just counted the number of books I am currently reading: five. I don't even have that many rooms in my apartment. They are scattered about, one in the bedroom, one in the living room, one on the kitchen counter, and one in the bathroom (yes, I read on the pot, and you do too, just admit it). The fifth is currently MIA but around here somewhere, I just know it. And yes, I am truly reading all of them, but in fragmented, hurried spurts. This speaks to the state of my mind lately--lots of different mental drawers are open at one time, and I can't seem to focus enough to shut a single one before opening another. Pretty soon the whole dresser will just topple over from the weight.

Pug and I were just discussing yesterday how lately my words can't keep up with my thoughts. I'm afraid that they just keep spilling out of my mouth as they come to me, and I can assure you that there is not one ounce of elegance to it. I am surely frustrating company for those used to following a logical thought process. I literally cut myself off mid-sentence, invent several new words a day by frantically combining several together, and jump from topic to topic like it's nobody's business. Even while typing this blog, I've gotten up three times when something new popped into my head.

School has been so busy that I haven't been able to keep up, which makes me feel overwhelmed, needed, and guilty at the same time. I think I need to try some of the deep breathing and focusing exercises that I teach the kids at school. Self--cut out all this "I need to carry the whole Earth, and maybe Saturn and Jupiter and hell, Pluto as well, on my shoulders" crap and just calm down and eat a donut.