My mind is messing with me again.
I am your classic over-thinker, a character trait that has led me astray more times than I can count. It keeps me up nights, when I wake up and my mind clicks on, and we’re off to the races. It distracts me during my days and keeps me from really paying attention, which is why I can’t remember anything – I wasn’t really there when it was happening.
At the moment, a straightforward but completely unexpected email has my brain spinning out the possibilities, whiling away the hours half-consciously hunting for hidden meanings and wondering if I’m really just a total head case. I have proffered a reply, and received one back in turn, but now I’m parsing that one, as well, reading between the lines and trying to put together a logical sequence of meaning. It’s a mystery wrapped in a riddle rolled up in an enigma. Unless, of course, it means absolutely nothing at all.
I have been this way for as long as I can remember, which I think I might have mentioned isn’t very long, since (everybody, now) I wasn’t really there at the time. It has been suggested that I need to get out of my head and into my body – I need to play – but I haven’t quite got my strategy for that mapped out yet. I think that my recent urge to get a dog would fit nicely, but I’ve come up with at least a dozen reasons why that’s not a great idea. Trust me, I’ve spent lots of time thinking about it.
It’s not like I’m mulling over things of great importance to the world – eliminating hunger, saving the polar ice caps, finding a cure for the common cold. No, my mind is just racing, jumping from one thing to another like Dug, the golden retriever in the movie “Up”: a sweet, simple creature trying to be helpful but constantly distracted by squirrels and tennis balls, eager to show off its niftiest tricks.
Now if only I could get my mind to lie down and stay.