Sometimes a metaphor is better than washing the dishes

My mental model of life has different queues. The conscious brain picks up and processes items from these queues, one at a time.

The oldest queue consists of human relations that I didn't choose, mostly my parents. Ten percent of time is spent here. Ignoring this causes great depression. This is how I was raised. It is very unknown, very strong.

Next are other people's worlds: art, books, movies, music, painting, and so on. This occupied more than 70 percent of my time before age 18. Now it is less than 10 percent.

Next is human and animal relations that I choose. Around 20 percent. This is my safe place. It feels normal to have them, like air; I dread losing them. They are my mirror and anchor.

Next is work. It should be around 50 percent of my time. It is a love-hate relation.

Next is physical activity, mostly running. Less than 5 percent.

And the last one is the queue of the void: things to do nothing, social media junk, news garbage, and similar useless information. It should be around 15 percent.

To enjoy any items in the queues I need to stay there for a while. The brain transforms to a spoon when picking from the work queue, then to chopsticks when picking from other worlds, then to a fork when it goes to relations. Picking relations with the work brain is a mistake. Switching back and forth between them causes anxiety.

Think about this: I am blind to other queues; how are queues created?