Too many projects
May. 1st, 2005 10:48 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mousmeDrinks in Montreal are expensive. Strip clubs aimed at women are crazy, crazy places. I got to bed at 5am. Am very tired. Details at eleven.
I have too many projects. I love all my projects, but there simply isn't enough time for me to devote to any of them.
The rational part of my brain is telling me to pick one or two and stick with those until they're done properly. This would be the logical course of action. If I had to pick, it would be![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
random_colour since there are many people involved and I'm really enjoying making music again, and my line dancing, because it rocks my world.
But there's also knitting, quilting, and the possibility of beading. The itch to write something, despite a complete lack of ideas about which to write. The desire to start gardening, or at least keeping plants. Fish! Fishing, too. Countless others that I can't think of offhand but that'll crop up when I think of them.
There's just too much, and the unreasonable part of my brain is throwing a temper tantrum like a three-year-old: "But I want to do it ALL!"
In other words: "Death by shinies... owie."
I have too many projects. I love all my projects, but there simply isn't enough time for me to devote to any of them.
The rational part of my brain is telling me to pick one or two and stick with those until they're done properly. This would be the logical course of action. If I had to pick, it would be
random_colour since there are many people involved and I'm really enjoying making music again, and my line dancing, because it rocks my world.But there's also knitting, quilting, and the possibility of beading. The itch to write something, despite a complete lack of ideas about which to write. The desire to start gardening, or at least keeping plants. Fish! Fishing, too. Countless others that I can't think of offhand but that'll crop up when I think of them.
There's just too much, and the unreasonable part of my brain is throwing a temper tantrum like a three-year-old: "But I want to do it ALL!"
In other words: "Death by shinies... owie."
