Procrastination

So.
I have the story. I have the plot, the characters.
I mostly know what I am supposed to write.
And yet here I am.
Struggling to put one word in front of the other.
My brain keeps slipping away, unable to focus.
I have trouble visualizing scenes, finding a rhythm in the dialogues.
And it's frustrating.
I am constantly behind on my word count, but I can't seem to be able to get my brain to just
focus.
Stray thoughts, teeth rattling,
I hate when I am there.
Where's the hyper fixation when I need it? 

On the difficulty of setting priorities

 So many things I want to do and only a limited amount of time available.

My side of the living room is quite an apt representation of what's inside my heads.
Piles of books I want to read, Notebooks for classes I want to complete. Binders and textbooks and folders for work.
There are piles of fabric for things I want to create, costumes and clothes alike. Some work in progress on top of the already unstable stack.
Boxes of knitting equipment and a bagful of yarn balls.

I want to be more stylish so I want to sew more, but if I dedicate my time to sewing it means I do not have time for writing anymore.
I want to be knowledgeable and well read so I can't sacrifice my daily reading while commuting to knitting, but then when am I ever going to find time to use all the yarn I have and all the ideas that lurk inside my brain?
I also want to watch more movies, keep an eye on the news, practice my foreign languages, have a social life, stay fit (if not even fitter)

I am of a rather passionate disposition. I like throwing myself completely into something and give it my all, sleep and sanity included if required.
The problems start when my brain can't decide what to hyper focus on.
I've always lives with the feeling that every minute counts and that I am constantly running of time, which can be a great source of motivation, but also become very difficult when it comes to setting priorities.
Choosing between hobbies is like choosing which version of me I am going to give up on.
I know it sounds harsh and overly dramatic, but this is how my brain reacts to choices.
It is the underlying terror of not becoming enough, not doing enough, not trying hard enough that fuels me into trying to become an excellent jack of all trades.

Do I want to be a craftsman or do I want to be an academic? Do I want to be a writer or a reader? Do I want to be strong or flexible.
Those are some the questions that keep me awake at night.