Mañana, mañana

It is really funny how messed up things get as your executive functions slip away. You look at things, realize you used to be able to keep all that straight and organized and systemic, and wonder how. You pile a pile of them in different piles. Then you got into the kitchen to make a cup of coffee, start talking to the wife, and busy your self on some tangent. Laundry, maybe, the dishes, an old film noir, an essay, a book. Hours later there’s a messy couple stacks of things that you forgot what it was you were doing with, and you put them back into the single pile from which they came. Mañana, mañana.

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