On my crazy brain.

I'm going to talk about me for a minute. This post is going to be entirely self-indulgent and more than likely will lead to no conclusion of relevance, to me or otherwise. To be honest, it's more so I can just get these words down and out of my head.

I'm an overthinker. I always have been. Ever since I can remember, every minute of every day, I'm thinking about something. Sure, there are things I can do to slow the train down - working jobs where I have to think on my feet keeps the noise down to a dull roar as I cycle through step after step in my systems. But for the most part, my mind is almost never still.

Which comes in handy, of course. When there is need for it, it kicks into high gear. All afternoon I've been sorting out things in my head about the business I used to run, recalling everything I've learned both there and in culinary school, and evaluating what needs to be different and what needs to be learned in preparation for the next big crazy idea. A lot of pacing, muttering to an empty house. A lot of rolled-back eyes and fluttering eyelids.

But once the words are down and the email's sent, my head's still on fast forward. And without a direction, it spins out of control. I find myself fragile and neurotic, thinking about sandwich architecture one moment and the inevitable death of my beloved pets the next. I think about romance and moving and all the details of my life in between, what I can plan for, what I can steer, what eventualities and possibilities I can prepare for. I pick out names for my children and floorplans for my home.

And in the end, not much has changed. Some of these plans are old, revisitations to thoughts I've had hundreds of times before. Some are new, and join the buzzing hive always sitting in the back of my head. And I settle back on my couch to try to drown it out in television and video games, always afraid, always anxious, and always, always prepared.