I’m guessing most of you know that old golf balls in the jar analogy, amiright? It has nothing do with controlling significant others, cos if you’re me, that’s not even a pipe dream. It’s the old ‘room for the important things in life’ philosophy, where the totally made up professor asks his awestruck class about whether his jar is full after stuffing it full of golf balls. They say yes. He then astounds them, by filtering little pebbles in to fill the jar further and fill all the gaps, so the jar we thought was full is now, in fact, heavy as all crap.
For the purposes of my story today though, we’re replacing pebbles with marbles. Bear with me. I’ll get to the point. See… The jar is my brain, and my body, and my heart. Just when it looks like the pretend professor in the pretend story has truly shocked his class, he pours sand in (to my brain) and fills all the remaining spaces, until no light remains. The class nods. Yes. That brain is bursting.
‘MWAH HA HA” roars the professor. ‘I’m not done yet’. And proceeds to pour a glass of vodka in to soak and confuddle any dry bits of sand. The point of the professor’s story is to say that “no matter how full your life is, there’s always room for the important things in your life”.
Ahhhhh. That’s better, says the jar. A kid then runs in to the room and grabs the marbles out, rolling them around on the floor. A man walks in, casually tossing a couple of the golf balls around, fancy juggler style, while he chats to the jar about his day at work and how the world of production is falling apart. A puppy runs up to the jar, squats, and pees on the sand. When the professor is telling my story, he says “you’re doing it wrong, and you’re a GREAT BIG FUCKING MESS”.
The jar (my brain, remember? full of vodka, sand, golf balls, and lost marbles by this point) knows about making time for the important things in her life. But by this time, so many of her bits are rolling around on the floor, being juggled or peed on that she’s not actually sure how much room is actually inside the jar at any given point. So she says yes to a few more bits… Just a couple of seashells, like a social outing, to pretty things up a bit inside the jar.
Sometimes there’s a cleanup, and with everything brushed back inside, the jar overflows. The brains spill out onto the table, causing a tidal wave.
After that happens, I’m just a jar, depleted of contents. I need filling back up.
More in, less out. I need feeding. I need food (I am skinny, and not in an ‘ooh you’re so lucky you eat all the chocolate’ way). I need books. I need sleep. I need quiet. I need music, I need my family. I need less stress. I NEED A GODDAMN NANNY. That’s my self-assigned job this year. So far, I’m failing. One more win for the Falling Face First blog, one more fail for me personally. I’m starting to feel that we’re not in this together, this blog and me.
OOOOOOOOH WEEEeeeee!! That was a fun one! Hope you enjoyed it dear readers! I’m on the road to reality. Apologies in advance. xxx