C fever

I had a teacher who described a behavior as “C fever” and it referred to the concept that if we prioritize things using alphabet letters, and level A is most important, B is less important, and C is least important, you might think people would focus on A level stuff. But folks get panicky or resentful, they put off the A stuff, while furiously pumping out C stuff to make up for it. Thus she dubbed it “C fever”.

So, I’ve pumped out a bunch of posts on topics that in my book are still considered priorities, but they’re not the A priority.

I started a post a while back, and then had to step back from it because the concept was too big. I made two posts about angles on this topic, but there’s more than a few angles and ancillary topics to go with it.

I want to finish this post, yet find its scope ever-increasing instead of diminishing as I work on it.

There’s only so much one can write in a blog post before the dreaded 4 letter acronym is stamped upon it forever. I shall not name it for fear of bringing it to bear.

I need to write lots, and then more, and get it all out, and let everyone know. But everytime I work on it I can’t seem to find that 10 word answer that makes people instantly light up and agree with its simplicity and veracity. Because it’s not simple. Life is not simple. It’s not even always true. Life is long, ridiculously long. It’s messy and complicated, and disorderly.

It isn’t focused or on point or entirely relevant to anything. As much as writing should have those qualities enough to be understood when read, it must also have the freedom to move beyond expectations. What’s the point of saying what’s been said before? why bother reiterating a few worn out concepts just to avoid a little moment of change?

I’m scared to finish it up because I do not feel like the post has a strong enough thesis, as if I’m being graded or something? I don’t know, I need to get over myself and write what I want but that innate human tendency to seek validation and support are as strong in me as anyone else. I want what I write to be read. I want to be heard and understood as I intend, not to be misinterpeted, misconstrued. I can’t make sure that everyone who reads everything I write knows what I really meant. That’s what the¬†writing is for, right?