Rain Delay

There is so little in the way of time.
Or so I tell myself.
Even the elements attempt to derail me
Once I have made up my mind.
There is no way to stop me
From stopping
With pounding heart
And screaming brain
I willingly succumb to imagined pains
There is so much work to do.
The steps at first seem unsurmountable
With minor provocation I could exist
in a constant vacation.
No one else is going to accomplish what needs to be done.
No one else even cares about the change to not be making it.
This feeling of desperate necessity mixed with crippling anxiety:
There is no shaking it.