A love hate relationship with efficiency.

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On the surface, in the middle, and right down to the bottom of me, efficiency is something I love. In a primitive manner, efficiency is something I find to be beautiful. In a very basic way, it reminds me of coloring inside the lines in coloring books, when I was a child. Back when coloring in the lines took effort and was patronized, earning a star in class, attention at home, or a sense of accomplishment. There is something about the nature of doing things with the least amount of energy, money, time, or any resource, and yet procuring results as good or perhaps superior to the results less costly ventures produce.

The difficulty I have with efficiency is not based on the facts of the matter. Or even with side issues. I am stuck on efficiency mode in almost all of my dealings with life. Everything I do costs many times the energy use most people understand. I am frozen in an efficiency requirement that is so draconian that at times I cannot do the things that help with the demands of life, such as eating. If I do too much at once, there is a decent chance I will simply need to fold up and go to bed, so harshly so that choice is not in the equation.

The other night I dreamed I was on the failed moon landing craft. While we were trying to figure out how to use the last bits of energy we had, and it did not look like it was going to work, I realized, the ship was my body. Everything I did had to be looked at, anything I wanted to do had to be figured into the equations. Even solid efficiency is inefficient, as there is always some minor loss due to transfer or simply the inherent nature of physics and life. So it is with me. Right down to considering whether I have the energy to consider something, which actually takes more energy than hiking, if I do the consideration correctly.

I do love efficiency. However, because of my condition(s), it would be like loving painting and despising pain, yet having some mental fixation which only allows one to express their artistic abilities by painting torture and the devices for that. I live so close to the edge, some days, that I simply cannot simply "do". It has been much better here, in Utah. But only in a relative manner. What I can do here, if multiples greater than what I could do in Iowa, would be laughable to John Q. Public. Laughable, or frightening, if they were stuck with it. Sigh... Yeah, I dreamed about this last night too. I was looking for a solution. Once I realized I was the ship, I broke out into a sweat and started trying to dreamsolve. I found no solutions. I am still in space, hoping oxygen holds and nothing else goes wrong... and looking for the solution which will allow me to use the gravity of the moon to at least turn the ship around...