crisis at capacity

i've spent so damn long just streamlining myself
faithfully shotgunning from the tip of one task to the next
endlessly, tirelessly, scheduling my sanity, incentivizing each trip up and down the stairs
(i wonder at folks who are older, not oldest; what joint of laziness do you thus spare?)

in the morning, to work. five strikes from the weekend. while there, i remember this entry, that file.

i open new tabs (just a few tabs) to try to offload from my brain. i keep a scrupulous sheet of device conditions but work from the dome anyway.

in the evening, to rehearsal. three questions from nowhere. while there, i plan out this text, that mile.

and then i get home. always some chores, lying in wait. i fear myself an inadequate hypochondriac, but here are the dishes done, the trash tied, the closet stacked, the water raised. there will be some reorganization in the pantry, in the data partition, in the photo gallery - to say nothing of the filing cabinet, the sock drawer. i'll walk the alleyway for a pencil thought lost in the stairwell, or else in my trunk. somewhere in there, i'll take off my coat, rings, shoes.

(sometimes i even manage to remember what originally brought me into the bathroom)

it may seem insignificant. it may seem laughably mundane. but even on those nights when there's something else i want to do...the clock ticks eleven - too late - all the same. i'm never home, except when i am, and it's all like this; it's all a sham. even on days when i thought i did nothing, i bustled around just the same.

(oh, and when i wake up early...i wake up early. things will most surely be done)

i'm always going. i'm always running. i'm never slowing down.
(until i shut off; until i full-stop the gears turning; until i forget what it is that i am)

and yet, with all this that i do
there are still things undone

i tell myself, as i always have, being overwhelmed is not an excuse
you can do more. you have to do more. you're an adult. do more.

see the gyno. find a shrink. switch your phone plan. freeze your credit. invest your paycheck. call your landlord.

none of this is outsize labor. this is how it is.

"i'm just too tired" and so what if you are?
(you don't even know the meaning of the word)

it's not an excuse.

and yes, you're right, my friend, you're right. inundation is truly not an excuse. others have done more with less and you should do it too.

you should. you will. unless you can't. until you can't.
until you're run down (and you're run down now)

it's not an excuse. it's a reason.