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Have you ever felt your head buzzing with ideas and your body so overloaded with energy that you don’t think you can keep up with it?

This happens to me. I get jazzed and cannot be stopped. It’s a feverish, almost manic space where I can’t sleep, don’t notice discomfort, and the idea of stopping is so impossible to me that even slowing down feels like I’ve failed something.

I call this “busy brain,” the time when lists and plans and action have to happen or they just play in loop in my head, endlessly cycling through a conveyor belt of things that I need to do or risk going mad.

Look at this super realistic photo of me!

Finishing something in this state is great. It’s a combination high of the thrill of success and the relief of getting something fully out of my head. I love it, and I seek it. I often say I’m sort of like an Australian Shepherd or a husky. Leave me alone in an apartment with nothing to do, and I’ll eat the couch out of boredom and then I’ll have a reason to build new seating!

But there’s a downside, however. There are moments when my brain is on and my body is willing to work and…I can’t, because something is in my way. Maybe I have to go to work, or I don’t have the tool I need to do the next step and can’t justify buying it right this second. These times I am filled with ennui. I am like the wet dish towel that either needs to clean more or be washed, except that instead, I am on the floor, ostensibly “drying” something that someone has decided not to deal with right now. I force myself to do other things but it’s like trying to have a conversation in a rowdy bar–I have to shout over my own thoughts and actively focus on the thing at hand, which is infinitely less exciting than the things I want to do.

I’m having an ennui-filled evening. I was actually productive today, too, so it’s extra frustrating that my mind-restaurant is still full of drunken people looking to arm wrestle

Keep it down you hooligans!

when I was really hoping I’d end up in a coffee shop right about now. I’m told this is probably something I could get medicated for, but that’s not arm wrestling, building things, or hanging out in a coffee shop! How am I supposed to compete with all that? Also, I can’t believe you don’t have a mind-shopping plaza. It’s really ideal for all your productivity needs, except the ones you don’t have tools for in the physical world. No, imagining I have them doesn’t work. Yes, I’ve tried. Repeatedly.

I will fight through it and hope to get some good–well, acceptable–writing done tonight and then off to combat my brain weasels through a day at work, where hopefully they’ll want to be at my mind-job instead of back in my mind-garage. Are you listening, weasels? Tomorrow, you have to behave.

It feels like you’re not listening to me, weasel.