I live inside my head. I hope you do, too. Not that you live inside my head (there’s no room for you in there, I promise) but that you live inside your own. I have tried on several occasions to consciously write down my thoughts as they happen first thing in the morning. I failed every time. I can’t type that quickly and trust me, I’m a fast typist.
What has occurred to me while trying to conduct this exercise is not only the vast amount of information I process and their associated thoughts, but also the sheer randomness of what goes through my mind. If it’s happening to me, it’s probably happening to you, too.
I’m aware that one part of my brain is on autopilot, constantly aware of the clock and the to-do list of my life. I telegraph several minutes ahead of my actions and envision the tasks at hand in advance of actually doing any of them. This starts before I even get out of bed. By the time I reach the bathroom, I have already done a load of laundry and eaten breakfast. I’m exhausted by 10 a.m. from a day that hasn’t yet begun.
And then phone calls, texts or emails interrupt me. I multitask my way through many of them while operating the heavy machinery of my real life. I calculate money, compose lyrics, recall a conversation, remind myself of someone’s birthday, strategize a meeting, decide what to wear to an event that is three nights away while offering advice to a friend, listening to a medical update or accepting an invitation. I map my life even in relaxation mode with the full understanding that things can, do and will change suddenly. I have the dexterity to rearrange everything because there is no perfect order in (my) life, only perfectly ordered chaos.
I imagine myself in that dress, on that date, living in that town and what that person’s house looks like inside. I imagine myself sitting in that chair or what the smell and taste of that meal is like based on the contents of someone’s shopping cart. Maybe it’s just my imagination, but I imagine you do, too.