My head is full of pressure
serious things which must be done
immediately
Other parts of my brain run like children
out of the house
away from the arguing adults
They are chasing dopamine
Which makes me anxious
Add it to the stack
that piles precariously on my neck
It’s so heavy it might break
And still the children run
around and around
Distracted I follow them
until
one by one
We fall over exhausted
And nothing gets done
and we all wait
until the quiet descends
and everyone troops home again
Carefully I take out a task
And fall into it
*Not the best of days. But I’ve had them before. Recalibrate, move on.
Header image: Courtesy of my AI artist friend, whom I shall call Empathy. Because she gets me. I typed in the prompt “pressure woman” and this is what she delivered. The squint to the eye is this regal beauty’s only tell, her dignity worn like a crown. I loved the image – printed it out to remind me to wear my own bad days with grace.
