I can be so easily distracted. Sometimes it’s a good thing. Like when one of your plants dies (in my case, one of my children…refer to Meet My Chirren) and you’ve got to get your mind off of it.
“What did I do wrong? I’m such a bad parent. I don’t deserve to raise plants…oh look, Oprah’s on, I’ve been wanting to see this one.”
It really doesn’t take much. Take for instance, right now. I’ve been sitting in my office (the corner coffee shop) trying to get my latest blog post out. I’ve actually been working on it for days now. And, worst of all, the one you are currently reading isn’t even the one I was working on. Although, I probably will eventually get that one out, this one was born out of a simple distraction.
I’m sitting here trying to focus and type when a guy sits down at the table next to me and starts to practically attack his laptop. At least, that’s what it sounded like. He is typing so fast and so hard, it sounds like a hailstorm. Which gets me thinking, “Why can’t I type that fast?”
“I wish I had so much going on in my head that I simply must furiously type it all out before I lose it.”
“Why don’t I have anything pressing going on in my head?”
“Am I that boring?”
“Wow. He’s typing really fast. I hope that he doesn’t break his computer.”
I sneak a glance at him and notice that he has absolutely no expression on his face whatsoever. No sweat dripping off his nose. No brow furrowed in concentration. Hmmm. This makes me think, “Maybe he’s just pretending. He just wants me to think that he can type super fast, that he’s a really important person doing really important business.”
I’m fascinated by the theater of it all. I start to think of how sometimes at work I’ll start walking really fast through the terminal–just to make people think that I am going somewhere important, not to Lubbock, Texas.
Then I get distracted again. “This is a great idea for an article. I bet I could pound this out in about 5 minutes.” And so, I begin to furiously type, lest even one thought should escape my frantic fingers.