Frazzled. Love the Word, Hate the Feeling.

I’m frazzled.  I’m overwhelmingly tired and self-medicating with a metric shit-tonne of Red Bull (metric, because I’m Canadian).  Energy drinks just aren’t cutting it.  I want to flat out ask my doctor for stimulants.  That, or find an alternative to the Seroquel, because it’s kicking my ass.

I haven’t drank in 163 days, but I’ve been feeling drunk for 2 weeks since Seroquel was added to my diet.

This shitty combo of exhaustion and fake energy is making it impossible to focus and finish anything.  There are 1000 things I want to do but I can’t organize the logistics to even start most.

I’ve been sitting at my desk for 5 hours and haven’t completed anything of significance.  I have documents open with tasks in varying states of progress.  I know that today’s going to pass without getting anything done.  I have no focus or ability to stay with one task longer than a few minutes.

Fuck.  This is not the person I want to be.  This is not the worker I want to be.

When a coworker comes to my desk for an impromptu conversation, I can’t get out of it fast enough.  It’s like I have a squirrel in my head digging furiously to get under the fence and escape.  I just want to escape back to my swirling thoughts; trying to follow a conversation and organize intelligent responses is too much work.

There’s not much time left in this work day.  I’m going to close the internet browser and keep it closed for the remainder of the day.  I’ll avoid any work tasks that require it, minimizing my risk of being distracted like the digging vermin that’s in my head.

I’ll make a list of 3 tasks to complete before the whistle blows.  And I’ll finish them.

Forced focus starts in 3, 2, ….

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