The Gerbil Sensibility.

I know it’s supposed to be the downfall of my generation and all that, but lately I’m feeling the ADD Blues a hell of a lot more than usual. Or maybe I just never noticed it as much as I do now.

Of course, that’s the times we live in, and blah blah blah. But even I’m starting to get annoyed with myself. On the train, even when I’m with N and we’re talking, it’s always the same thing: Check phone, lock phone, back in pocket. Check phone, lock phone, back in pocket. Lather, rinse, repeat, lather, rinse, repeat, latherrinserepe–

Yeah. You get the idea.

And it’s not as though I’m worried about being inattentive or anything. I hear her, and she doesn’t care what I do, because she’s often guilty of doing the same thing. So is just about every single other soul on the train who doesn’t have their head stuck in a book/kindle/iPad. Except for the vacant looking souls — who I’ve also counted myself among — who stare past their own reflection into the abyss that lies out the subway window.

But that part, that’s just the city.

It’s even more disconcerting when I’ve actively been trying to write lately. My nose has been trying to reinflate itself , but I’m still hitting that wall. And instead of trying to overcome it… I’ll just veer off into watching that episode of Dexter I haven’t gotten to yet, shall I? Or maybe I’m hungry, and it’s high time to get up to some more muffin foolishness. Or I’ll read that Chuck Klosterman novel I have yet to finish. That sounds good! Great, even. Who needs to finish a short story in one sitting?

Then I move over to said Chuck Klosterman book, and find myself sometimes making it ten pages before I set the thing down again. Not that it’s not great, or hilarious, or doesn’t give me a nice long list of music to listen to before I die. (Killing Yourself to Live, by the way. Read it. Love it.) It’s a great book. I just can’t seem to make myself sit still long enough most days to finish the damn thing.

Or I find myself thinking about the backup of books that sits right next to my bed in the bookcase, and how I haven’t gotten to those yet. I just keep buying more books. There’s DVDs among my vast collection (really, I don’t want to know how much the final tally would come out to if you looked at just how much those cost altogether) that I’ve never watched. And between my inability to hold an attention span, and my profound mastery of the art of procrastination, none of this ever gets done.

No, instead I’m popping over to Twitter to see if there’s any new articles to read. (In spite of my hatred of it, it’s turned out to be really useful for that…) It doesn’t help that my brain seems content to bolt right ahead of whatever I’m doing at the time either. Last night, cooking a concoction that was so named Everything But the Kitchen Sink Soup that was entirely my own (and would’ve been renamed Sara’s Grave Error Soup if it’d been hated, but it was thankfully a success), I found myself always thinking four or five steps ahead of what I was actually doing, and constantly changing bits and pieces of the recipe.

I know I’m not the only one who’s getting some quality eye twitching in over this problem. And if I thought I could take a pill to break the spell, even though I’d rather not add one more to my already frustrating load in that area, I might actually consider it. But my understanding is that those who preach that particular practice are full of crap. Besides, I’d rather learn my focus as naturally as possible anyway, because once the pill goes, so goes the effect. And that’s just not okay.

Anyone has any thoughts on this, I’m always open to suggestions. Until then, I’m going see if I can just slow down my brain enough to follow along with one. Thing. At a time.


~ by Sara on November 21, 2011.

2 Responses to “The Gerbil Sensibility.”

  1. You might try setting a timer for fifteen minutes, say, and try to focus on just one thing until the timer goes off. This technique has been good for my writing practice!

    • I’ve heard whispers of that one, but it’s usually for a longer amount of time. Fifteen minutes sounds like an excellent place to start though given the circumstances, thanks!

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