I'm flailing + fraudulent.

I'm flailing.  And I'm feeling fraudulent again.

I'm flailing because it's summer + it's too hot to get any good work done, but nevertheless, I try and I wind up all out of sorts because I can't do anything I set out to do fast enough or with the same efficiency as in cooler temperatures, which of course is totally absurd + I don't want to let myself get away with such a lurid excuse.  The problem is I don't have a better one, really, except that I am disorganized.  I am also a little bit preoccupied with moving my life + home across the state in less than one month and I know that should signal me to back off a little, and be okay with the slowed + distracted pace, but...I still just feel like I should be able to do it all.  I find myself wishing for September, and order, and the expectation that work will get done.

I'm feeling fraudulent, again, but it really shouldn't surprise me because whenever I can't meet my own deadlines I feel this way.  I feel this way for a hundred more reasons, and a hundred more times without any reason at all.  It seems that it is a part of doing creative work, or working for yourself, or maybe it is just a human feeling.  We cannot measure up to the things we see and think and feel, and this leaves us feeling fake.  Half.  Sort of mellow, not in a bad way, necessarily, just sort of vegetative.

I really just need to get organized, and go to sleep, and give myself some grace.

I'm definitely flailing because the title of my last post was, "Things are shaping  up around here."  Ha.  This is a pretty good summary of my life most of the time, but now, especially.  I'm all over the place...it's just how it's going to be for a little while.