Monkey mind

When I wake up, for a moment my mind is empty, like the first page of a new notebook. I blink my eyes open and try to judge the time by the light making its way between my curtains. Then I squint at the clock for confirmation, and feel smug, disappointed or surprised, depending.

It's a matter of seconds before the thoughts arrive, not one by one like an orderly line of soldiers reporting for duty, but in a marauding horde, each shouting, 'Pick me! Pick me!' Today's disorderly rabble included, inter alia, cats lesson plans food shopping the Arts Centre wonder how is x doing birthday presents coffee morning blog post buy seeds. Note the lack of punctuation; there were no pauses, Is everyone like this?

When someone is described as single-minded, it's meant to be a compliment, because it implies focus, but it makes me think 'ruthless'. How can anyone have only one thought? Where do the others go? My first cup of tea every morning  (today taken back to bed - lazy mare) acts as a filter, allowing the thoughts to race and tumble until they settle a bit before one is able to step forward and, with a nervous cough, propose that it should be dealt with first. The strange thing is that once I've settled on a task I can work on it without getting sidetracked.

Eisenhower devised a decision matrix (see pic) based on his view that: 'What is important is seldom urgent and what is urgent is seldom important.' It does work, up to a point, but it's not always easy to decide how to rank things.

Nor is there a box for 'I really want to do this first, because it will be fun.'