All My Best-Laid Plans are F*cked

I scheme, I plan, I plot. I research. I schedule.

And then I stop.

When the shiny newness has flaked off, once the apple's gone dull and soft, after crisp has been traded for creased and it's all smudges and fingermarks and dog-ears, I stop. Full. Stop.

It's a problem. 

And of course -- of course! -- my response is to try to solve the wrong problem. Because my issue isn't that I haven't found the precise perfect personalized system to Get Things Done. My issue is that I have no energy to accomplish things and no belief in my ability to do so. I'm willing to work; I'm just not willing to fail. And when failure feels inevitable as well as crushing, what's the point?