I have a scattered brain - that's not to say I'm a scatter brain - rather that there are a bunch of things I want to do, a couple of things I need to do, and several things I want to say, and none of them are fighting hard enough to conquer my attention span.

Maybe I have too much time on my hands and need a few shocking deadlines to get this stuff prioritised.

What's going on?

List of things I want to do

  • make videos (how to bait mousetraps) for this blog
  • research Webstock workshop subjects (29 more sleeps, people!)
  • draw (so many things) every day
  • read (so many books) one book after another
  • set out a publishing schedule (and then actually do it)
  • finish the tech spec (for fixing a lot of what is broken around here)

List of things I need to do

  • update my portfolio and CV
  • make a video on how to roast lamb

List of things I want to talk about

  • what makes a blog a blog (content alone?)
  • the Higgs field (word on the street)
  • working your passion (and what is it anyway)
  • moving (body and house)

List of what I'm actually doing

  • watching American Football. This morning New Orlean Saints lost to the San Fransico 49ers in a tight, exciting, down-to-the-wire game.
  • watching vlogs
  • reading my Twitter stream
  • mapping out site plan for new portfolio
  • drinking coffee
  • thinking about going to the supermarket

What's next?

Looking at those lists has me thinking they could (probably) and easily be ordered. Then I'd have an idea of priority, and could start actioning them.

Instead I start a new train of thought about how I use this blog to think, and that while there are a few visitors who read here, mostly the audience for my blog is me. I write to sort myself out. Which then, in turn, worries me because I don't write enough to really be sorting anything out.

So, what the flip?

This place I am in is limbo. The land of between. After Christmas and before making moving home to New Zealand real. With nothing booked, with nothing organised, it doesn't feel particularly real yet. Though it's what I want, and what I need, and what I want to talk about, but not what I'm actually doing.

Because I know that no matter how much the reasons for me going mean to me, leaving here is going to be an extremely hard thing to do.

So, I think, my brain is scattering my thoughts, protecting me from the thinking how wrenching the doing of this thing will be.