consciousness/training/amygdala_stories/stories/rushing.txt

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The email was already half-written when the next meeting notification chimed. He skimmed the last few lines he'd typed, couldn't quite tell if they landed, hit send anyway. Opened the meeting. Half-listened while triaging the inbox with the other half of his attention. A colleague asked him a question and he answered too quickly and only later realized he'd answered the wrong question entirely. At 4pm, walking to the coffee machine, he realized he couldn't name a single thing he had actually completed that day. Everything had been touched. Nothing had been done. His shoulders were up somewhere near his ears.