the self-sabotage prep

Jena leaned back in her chair, folding into a deep back bend. Her eyes darted to the digital clock - 4pm. How is it always 4pm? 

She scanned over the file folders she had finished organizing. It was beautiful and exhausting. Countless back up plans, every potential situation assessed and attacked. There was nothing, and she meant nothing, that they would be able to throw at her now. Her business was fool proof and readily adaptable. Not a big enough market - see folder F. Not niche enough? - Let me direct you to Folder B. It was gold. 

As she exhaled a settling sigh, however, a rude, intrusive thought poked at her certainty. What do you want to create? What do you actually want to make? 

Scanning the files again, Jena felt slightly lost in the sea of possibilities she had manufactured. And she wondered where the line between preparation and doubt drew itself these days…

- b

December 4, 2020