Do you ever wish your brain had a “delete” button?  That there was some way to dismiss all the clutter that seems so necessary for getting ahead in today’s world and just start over? I—a liberal arts major who fantasized about writing all day—now know more than I ever wanted to know about how to run a business.

My head is bursting with information about everything from taxes to technology. I know how to pin and tweet and share. I can tell you how to light a video and where to place the mic. I’ve read dozens of books on how to blog, how to speak, how to market, how to sell. I wish I didn’t need to know about SEO or DPI or LLCs. I’m not sure I can handle yet another update to my phone or my network or my computer. And I’d give money to go just one week without hearing about the newest app I simply must install.

I’m getting better at texting, and I can now remember which of our six remote controls goes with which device. I finally understand how the server works and what the router does and where the back-up lives. I know ten times more than I’d like to know about accounting and one hundred times more than I’d like to know about the back end of my website. I know how to create a business plan, but I still hate doing it. I know just enough to get by in Excel and PowerPoint, and on WordPress and YouTube, but I still can’t figure out how to get my MailChimp templates to behave.

My brain hurts from reading countless articles, my eyes burn from scouring the Internet, my fingers cramp from typing hundreds of e-mails a day. No more do I dream about long days of writing. Now I long for five minutes. I fantasize about a full day tucked under the covers reading a good old-fashioned book. I pray that the world will just slow down long enough to let me catch up, and that my brain won’t start dumping important data, like the names of my children, to make room for the steps for how to convert my books to the latest e-book format.

And with that, I’m shutting down for the night.