on rearranging the damn buckets
Here's the thing. Your lifeboat is sinking.
You've got your emails, and your texts, and your unreturned phone calls, and your checked out library books, and your impending deadlines, and your side project, and your half-done other project, and the new project you just volunteered yourself for, and the money you owe, and the bill you're behind on, and your slipping friendships, and office monkey work to make up for, and you don't know what you're doing about any of it.
Oh, and there's that computer monkey job you thought was a sail for your lifeboat, but it might just be a loaf of bread.
How do we let the water get this high? And why can't we seem to remember that none of the calendaring, to-do-listing, or other rearranging of the goddamn bailing buckets is gonna keep us from sinking?
This is your life.
You only get one.
Are you gonna watch the water rise?
Are you gonna move your buckets around?
Or are you gonna dry this thing out, get a clear look at the sky, and start getting yourself somewhere?