i just freaked out and ate a piece of chocolate cake

it doesn't matter why. i mean- it does. but it doesn't matter to you. so never mind about that.
ok- yes. it might have something to do with that book over there - the one that I worked really hard on but the paint threatens to peel off of when you turn the pages. yes.
or it could be The List that the book sits upon that I am pretending to ignore- but can't. and yes...it could be you. or you. but I won't burden you with that. and yes. it could very well be THAT..and it could also be THIS. so then i slipped in my red socks and bumped Violet's watercolors spilling the painty water cup onto my pajamaed leg and the water ran precariously close the the plugged-in hair dryer. yes. it is in my studio. on the floor. because i'm working dammmit! i'm working on all these things that no one will even care about but i can't seem to keep myself from creating them. yes. it could be a lot about that.
it also could be because i'm supposed to be doing things and being places and i'm not.
it could be the thing i didn't pick up at the place yet. or the calories i did not yet burn on the treadmill where i have not yet dripped my sweat on. i will. i will.
i will after i do that. and this. and make that. and finish that. and fill out the boxes with the words and empty the coffee grounds and fold all that laundry and decide this and that. and punch myself in the face for not doing any of that and instead doing this.
not THIS- as in typing this- but THIS..this. this this this this.

and that's why.