move

So hello. I'm here but I can hardly catch up with myself. Deadlines come and pass like street signs. Who am I again? What's the point of all the incessant moving...there are days when I have sat in my car inbetween things for several extra minutes, not wanting to go on to the next destination, and then the next. The car a kind of limbo space, a liminal space of escape between all the points of responsibility. Moving, moving, moving...