The topic may sound strange but it affects so many people I know, me included.
Tongue in cheek the problem is called "But first Syndrome". It is multi-tasking gone terribly awry.
I'll describe how this particular malady affects my life:
It's a cold, late winter Saturday morning. I've been sitting in my recliner, happily wrapped in a quilt while I finish a cup of coffee, but as wonderful as that feeling is, guilt begins to whisper that I need to start a load of clothes. So I get up, absently dropping the quilt onto the floor, and head to my appointed task. But on my way to our bathroom to grab the laundry I notice that that there is sand on the floor. It REALLY needs swept before it gets tracked everywhere so, first, I'd better clean that up.
So, I change directions and go to the laundry room instead.
Dust mop and dust pan now in hand, I get back to the dining room and realize that my coffee cup is still on the end table by my recliner. That isn't good because our fifty five pound boxer, Angel, is in the house and she loves to inspect anything even remotely connected to people food. So, I lean the floor tools against the kitchen table and walk back in the living room before the dog knocks the cup off the end table (again).
As I pick up the cup I notice that my quilt is on the floor. Angel, loves to lay on the quilt and I really dislike the short, black dog hair she leaves on it, so, first, I'd better pick it up, fold it and put it on the back of the couch. Consequently, I set the coffee cup back down, pick the quilt up off the floor...
...And realize that, first, I'd better go potty. Since I'm closer to the back bathroom I decide to go there. The quilt gets pitched on the loveseat and I head to the back of the house. That bathroom is by my sewing room and, when I come out, I realize that I left the sewing machine on all night. So, I head in there intending to simply turn the Bernina off, when I notice a project I have been working on and my mind shifts gears again.
Minutes (or hours) later, when I come out (usually because my cell phone is ringing and it's on the bar in the kitchen) I see the coffee cup sitting there and think how good another cup of coffee would taste so I head toward the kitchen.
The sand is still on the floor (which, by now the Boxer has scattered), the broom and dust pan are abandoned next to the area where the sand used to be. The laundry is completely forgotten and the quilt now resides on the loveseat...but first I think I'll enjoy my coffee. After all, I've worked hard this morning!
You get the picture. I could go on and describe whole days (weeks? years?) of "but first syndrome." I've used more days than I care to count spending my time in this self-imposed frenetic activity when I never finished anything.
Worse than that, when these days happened, I ended up exhausted. I couldn't explain to myself or anyone else what I'd done all day or why things were more chaotic and messy than when I began. Over the years "but first" became a habit that made me miserable.
How to tame "but first".
I wish there was Pixie Dust that could fix "but first syndrome," but I've never found a personal source of Tinker Bell's finest (can you tell that our Grandkids have been watching the old cartoon version of Peter Pan?)
However, over the years I've developed a few coping mechanisms that often help.
The first, and most important, thing here is to acknowledge that I'm actively choosing to "but first" myself into a frenzy.
Admitting, then accepting that I'm indulging in the malady is key.
Yes, "but first" is an indulgence of sorts. It happens when I get lazy and allow myself to fall into old habits. Our multi-tasking lifestyle teaches women in particular that if we aren't doing two (three? four?) things at once we aren't "living up to our potential". Mutlti tasking is something I've done my whole professional life and those habits die hard.
But sometimes multi-tasking needs to be suspended for at time, especially when I find myself mired in chaos. If I can turn off the see-how-many-things-I-can-do-at-a-time thought pattern long enough to complete just the task at hand my life is so much happier and easier!
Next is to stop thinking and start doing. This sounds nuts to me even now, but when I stop thinking about what needs to be done and begin doing something, just one thing at a time, until it is completed, my life is easier. I know, that sounds simple, but to turn off my "thinker" and complete a task is sometimes easier said than done.
In short, I have to consciously put mental blinders on. Dedicated action instead of frenetic action is the key.
An example: I have a dedicated time every weekday morning to blog. As I sit here typing I can see an Amazon box abandoned on the high chair, and I also notice that I forgot to clean the high chair last night after my grandkids left. There is a load of clothes that is also calling me. However, if I allow myself to think about those things my mind begins to drift, and instead of working on my blog I begin to recall all the other things that I "need" to be doing. "But first syndrome" would have me get up from the keyboard during my blog time, start the load of laundry, do something with the offending box, wash the high chair and then (hopefully) go back to typing.
That way of doing things doesn't work for me.
Third, when I admit that I am indulging in "but first syndrome" it's time to identify WHY I'm falling back into bad habits. That is where journaling comes in. For me, as I write I can often trace the origins of my chaotic mind to something specific.
The things I can acknowledge I can begin to change.
I'll leave you today with this journal prompt: Does this "but first syndrome" affect your life? How?
Happy journaling!
These tops sometimes defy description. When I look at the folded, finished top, what do I see? Is it just a wad of fabric that's going to be a lot of work or do I see the possibilities? In all three quilts there was both machine and hand piecing, fabric of different types and styles, points that don't match, and obvious defects, yet, like my life (when I stop long enough to look) I see possibilities. Something beautiful can came from the imperfect jumble if I just take the time, effort, and energy (and prayer) to make it so. Instead of a mess, I can choose to see the time, patience and dedication it took to piece tops like this and how beautiful the finished quilts will be. 
