Atomictumor

This would be a fair representation.

Clean car and sick kid
Post soccer fever for G
Pigpen passed it down

An imported strain
From Cemestos Garden stock
Only lasts a day

Last week, on Wednesday
When Pigpen had the fever
MastaG said prayer

“Please make Pigpen well,
And please let me get it too,
So I can miss school”

So he has it now
But he’ll be fine by Monday
I’ll try not to laugh

I ran across this self-help, organizational guide book that’s mostly famous among folks who like to have their shit together. Other folks who want to get their shit together probably like it too, but have only read a little bit of it. I’ve only read half the book, before I switched to something else. Don’t take that as reflecting poorly on the book. It only means that I often switch books and rarely finish them. I keep several going at once and am certainly not monogamous in my book relations. That’s off topic.

I was talking about the book, Getting Things Done, that David Allen wrote. He does the whole gamut of the self-help shtick: there’s corporate advising, expensive seminars, an interactive website, the book. Lots of stuff for you to sink your teeth into if you so desire.

Allen takes a bottom up approach to organization and self-management. Steven Covey of the 7 habits fame says you’ve got to figure out your values, then do your thing. Allen says this makes no sense when you’re trying to figure out what to do with you email inbox. Anyway, if you’re interested read this article that Wired magazine has.

What caught my eye is this statement Allen made near the end of the Wired piece. Allen says,

“The people who take to GTD are the most organized people,” Allen says, “but they self-assess as the least organized, because they are well-enough organized to know that they are fucking up.”

I’ve always been acutely aware of how disorganized I am. The things I’ve done and the things I’ve left undone have an annoying way of hanging around in my head. But Allen’s insight into how an organized-conscious person is self-aware, or rather how limited is his self-awareness is striking. A person who, relatively speaking, has their stuff together may very well be all the more critical about keeping it together by virtue of their organizational skills. The very thing they want to achieve, organizational satisfaction, is thwarted (ha, ha, love that word!) by their organizational efforts.

That would be, what do you call it, a self-feeding loop. A vicious circle. A snake eating its tail?

Maybe you get the point.

So what does all this amount to? That self-awareness is right up there with opinions?

Maybe.

Week ago or so, this came out in the news:

“The White Stripes announced today that they are canceling their forthcoming tour due to health issues. Meg White is suffering from acute anxiety and is unable to travel at this time…”

Sucks, Meg.

I never really pondered anxiety problems until BJ got sick last year, and even then I never suffered from them, but was more aware of the friends of mine who do so.  Depression has always been my go to mental crutch, so much so that sometimes its like slipping on an old shoe, a ratty one, with holes in it that let the cold air in but still somehow make your feet numb and sweaty.

Its interesting, sometimes, how the more things change, the more they stay the same.  I’ve avoided talking much about myself around here lately, because I’ve been doing well about not talking about myself, but it’s been in there trying to sweet talk me into coming out, and I guess I’m not paying much attention right now.

I was talking to the ladyfriend the other day, who by now has been pretty aqquainted with some of the interesting and varied ways that my moods change, and it became clear to me that part of me still isn’t back to full function yet.  I get glimpses of it, like in the way that I HAD to go learn that Olivia Tremor Control song that was stuck in my head the other day on the guitar, or in the way that for the first time in years I’m having snatches of memory from dreams the night before.  She supposed that perhaps my right brain, what with all the art and expansive thinking and whatnot, might be taking a longish nap, and I guess that makes a certain amount of sense.

Things are going great in AT land.  The ladyfriend is a wonderful, wonderful woman, and we’re getting along swimmingly.  The kids enjoy her company, which was always something I wondered about.  She (being a reader of the ‘tumor for a while) knows about the past, and I (being in a similar social circle as her) know about hers.  That presents no obstacle at all, and thats something that I honestly didn’t think any woman would get over in dating me.

She’s put up with my unpredictible mood changes with understanding (and some confusion).  Most importantly, tho, she’s made me feel better every time it comes up.  Its a great thing.

I’m still stressed.  My shoulders and larger muscles tighten up from it.  But its getting better.

And, hell, at least I’m not anxious…

Is the fact that I’m digging more these days on Station to Station era Bowie than on Ziggy/Aladdin Sane era Bowie a sign that I’m getting old?