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This is not an epiphany, nor is it being brought up due to a single event. I just have come to grips with the fact that I am terrible at pacing myself. Whether it be work, play, friendships, relationships, relaxing, sleeping, quite honestly, everything. I suck at pacing.

Despite being a master of procrastination, I'm actually great at finishing projects. The problem is, I finish them too soon. I work to fast, I play too fast, I drink too fast, I escalate conversations too fast, I pretty much do everything too fast. Insert joke right about here.

I cost myself money by continuously doing work that should take a day in a matter of hours, at times, if it's clerical, minutes. Working for hourly pay and hyper-pacing isn't a good mix. It's cost me thousands over my lifetimes. The thing is, when I apply myself, I do very good work and I do it quickly. I'm a boss's dream, because they get the same work from me in ninety-minutes, that most people give them in a day. Obviously, being in a setting that requires my attendance is a perfect fit for me but like the children I work with, my attention moves on to the next thing as quickly as theirs. Which may, in fact, be why I've managed to connect to so many kids. I believe in today's world it would be diagnosed, but in my era, it's called production.

I see the negatives all the time. In sports, I pushed the ball, when patience was needed. In socializing I was suggesting shots before kickoff. In friendships, I'd go from asking what's your favorite color to discussing religion and politic. In relationships, well, we've discussed enough personal stuff this week.

I know I procrastinate and I'm good at using it as a positive tool. I know I can complete things and do a thorough job, so there's never been a complaint from others about my pace. The real problem lies with me. And please don't think I'm manic in any way. I'd rather sit on the deck, sipping cocktails and wait for the sunset. The problem is, I'm sipping that first cocktail watching the sunrise (slight exaggeration).


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