March 29, 2012

Synapse.

So today we are making huge forward motion on the next phase of The Big Project at work. As team leader for the site, I am fielding a lot of questions from users, coordinating conference calls and trying to avoid the flames and pitchforks of discontent.

Like my college days, when I get bombarded or start feeling overwhelmed I start to see the synapses in my brain start misfiring or making misconnections. I hear birds chirp to cover the awkward silence and I start seeing sparkly lights like someone pulled a live wire out of a socket. If someone was to hold a seashell up to my ear, they might hear my brain firing off a recording: “I’m sorry, that line has been disconnected.” This feeling is fleeting and lasts for only a few seconds at a time, but in these brief moments I feel like my mouth has become disconnected from my brain, which has completely lost the ability to form a reasonable thought. I don’t know if this is normal; I know that very few people that I know have ever discussed such a feeling, but there it is in my little world. I suspect that something has been wired wrong since birth and the defect only shows up under extreme load conditions, but it’s a weird feeling. I don’t like not feeling like I know what I’m doing and I don’t like not being able to convey the words or thoughts that are formulating to the question being asked simply because I can’t get the message from point A to point B in my brain and the out the shoot of my mouth into the rest of the world. And I feel like such an idiot when I feel this sort of thing.

I’m through it and back on track, albeit tired as I’ve been up since 0430. A bit of iced tea from my favorite Dunkin’ Donuts and on we go. Now if I could just keep my synapses firing on all thrusters.