Staying Tracted

Ok, I start off thinking that I can do the business plan.  Then, every time I open the Word documents up, I get really sensitive and panic attack, like if I was doing anything on this I would be seriously depressed (too high goals).

Is it possible to have job anxiety?  I again blame social security.  I so want to get off of it so I can get a decent job or own my own freelance business.  And I blame Satan, himself.

 I keep trying to want to make the job more complex or organized and it's not.  It's straight forward as can be.  Just look up the information and plug it in.  I start getting paranoid though.

I've basically broken it down to the marketing part that I'm trying to finish.  Everything else I can fill in later.  I get distracted really easily, so music helps me to concentrate, but also sucks energy, so it's a balance with that.

I'm going to listen to nature sounds to keep me from getting distracted.  (See?  I do this. To make things more complicated than they are.  Like this is a line, that I'm not going to deviate from.  And then I deviate from it!)  Why, God why?  #whitegirlproblems  #writerproblems


Ok, I just panicked.  I have a template that I got from Word, and, of course, it's not modifiable.  It's different from the template he gave me and I can't seem to decide between them.  Which should I choose?  "Neither.  I should take the best out of both of them."  That would be my dad's childish optimistic answer.  Really, I can, but taking my dad's side is short of horrendous.  He's the worst.  I think of really creative ideas and he takes them to use for himself.  And leaves me stuck with neither. This really sucks.  So distracted sufficiently by the dad problem, what should I do?  Pick this pink, has-to-be-modified, maybe-different-than-he-wanted, but graphically-pleasing template?  Make up my own, less graphically-pleasing word-based template based on what he gave me?

Why am I even bothering with the template?  I can't seem to research or write anything worth using?

I need like a life coach.  To cheer me and shout directions from that first base box.

Everyone does.  I have no support for this until I can prove I can do this on my own.  A little counter intuitive, don't you think?   Maybe that's a writing career.  Few friends, many enemies.