When do you know that you're in over your head? I mean, are there times when you know you're in too deep, but you keep going anyway?

I'm just curious.

Don't read more into that than I've written. I've just been wondering about people's boundaries and their limits. Wondering if even I know when I've taken on more than I can handle, in whatever situation.

I've often found myself swamped with work when I didn't realize I had opted for so much. I find myself looking around, bewildered, because I don't know how I got to the place. And, I'm wondering if that's specific to me or if other people find themselves in that situation too.

And then, how do you get yourself out of that situation?

My Mom told me, when she went back to college at the age of 50, that the only way she could get through it was to dedicate a certain amount of time to each project/homework assignment. And when the specified time was up, to stop. She said that if she didn't stop when the time was up, she would work on one project until it was done, then some of the other projects wouldn't get worked on at all.

I wonder if that is a world-wide solution.

On a comletely unrelated topic... I really hate lecherous old men. I hate lecherous young men too. I can't stand it when someone comes to me, out of the blue, and starts talking about how they want to {censored}. Well, you know.

I have never seen a woman do this. Oh sure, I've seen those stupid porn bots in chat from "jane-loves-giving-head" and such paltry names as that. But still, I don't see these porn bots in the same light as the lecherous men.

What is it about me that draws in the wackos?

Is it my sparkling wit? Is it my unending charm? Is it my stunning good looks? Or could there be another reason for this plethora of scummy sexual "offers"?

Perhaps it's because the ID I always get these messages to (yes, this is different that the East Indian influx, that's dying down a little a very little) is Tig. The big, tough, biker-bitch.

Is mankind (humans) degenerating so much, or has internet access become so cheap that every schmuck has access?

I think it's the latter.

And then, I'm brought to the thought of Happy Harry Hard-on. Who remembers him?

Who out there was really shaped by the Brat Pack?

Who remembers Molly Ringwald putting on lipstick by holding the applicator between her breasts?

I miss St. Elmo's Fire.

*chuckles quietly*

Alright, with those memories which very definitely date me as a teen in the 80s, I'm leaving.

Stay safe, all.