Passion And Indecision Are My Drugs Of Choice

Not long after Rav & I started dating, I found out that his mom made quilts.
This was something I had always wanted to learn how to do.
So she sat down and showed me.

I enjoy quilting. I really do (I'm an old, dorky soul). I don't do it often. I usually pick an "event" that is happening to someone close to me/us (a new baby, most likely) or a holiday, and I make a quilt. It becomes a bit of an emotional thing for me. As most things do.

This one I've been working on for a year & need to get of my butt.

It's for my BFF's grandson who is ONE now!

I enjoy playing with the colors, the designs, the patterns, the tedium.
However, the thing I think I like least is going to the fabric store.
As I walk back to where the fabrics are I become high. I'm excited by the prospect of the project, but start shaking as I look at the rows and rows of fabrics.
I imagine this must be what it feels like to be an addict. I get high.

I get itchy and jumpy and am lost in a fog of swirling colors, seemingly endless possibilities.
And I won't feel better until I have the desired product in.my.hand.
I seriously go into the whole quilting thing with little or no plan.
I'm completely opportunistic.

This one I just started for friends of ours who are expecting a baby in May.

I know what I want: to make a quilt for someone.

I know what I have to do: pick fabric.

But there are just so many options.

When I walk in, usually, with no pattern yet decided upon. And not necessarily a color scheme picked.
I walk the aisles, in a fit of jonesing, and touch the fabric, look at the fabric, until I "feel" what is the right one.

This is my general state-of-mind with almost any project.

Last night was my first class of this half of the semester. Pyschology of the Exceptional Child.
Good lord, my head already is going to explode.
The instructor began by saying all of the things about exceptional children that I was trying to say the other day in my post about Connor and people around children with exceptionalities/issues being more aware, more in-tune, more willing. I found myself saying in my head... yes,Yes!, Yes!
Then she began talking about the work we had to do this semester. And one rather large one in particular.
We have to choose a topic regarding exceptionalities, pick 5 medical/professional articles, cite them, annotate them and present them.
She gave us time at the library to start looking at our topic.
And wouldn't you know, it's as if I'm back in the fabric store.
There are just so many options.

And I feel passionate about them all. How do I pick just one?

Certainly I can jump on my soap-box about ADHD, treatment/nontreatment, behavioral/emotional issues, tactile defensiveness in correlation to ADHD, special ed. vs. inclusion, demographics, etc.
But I already know so much about the issue from living it. Which could be helpful.
However, my stepmother works with deaf/hard of hearing. She could lend some insight to their community and speaking/signing v. non.
And my mom, who has spent the last 10 years working with an Autistic adult in his workplace as his job coach, and how that program is being inundated with other mental health impaired and sex offenders because the state doesn't know where to put them.

Oh.dear.lord. My head is going to explode.

And nothing excites me more than reading, researching, exploring, learning, discussing, and sharing the information. Which, truth-be-told, has gotten me in trouble in the past. As I'm being asked to do these things for a grade, by someone who is actually interested in hearing different ideas, I'm already feeling the tingles of excitement and mental stimulation.

These projects, as much as they excite me, make me crazy. It is so hard to nail myself down to one. I guess I have to let my fingers do the walking on the internet today. I'll have to "touch" the articles, the different exceptionalities. And hopefully one will feel right.

This indecision and excitement I feel kills me. I feel unsettled until I can land on just the right one.