Wednesday, 1 July 2015

To ADD or not to ADD, that is the question for marshmallow ...

Drej and I talked about attention spans and meditation today (this is an excellent talk to have with three dogs pulling us downhill among which one is a Parson Russel terrier, the other a Beagle and the third a Podenko. They do not have an attention span between them to speak of.)

Drej says meditating for an hour every day really clears out your thoughts and you do everything a lot clearer and faster afterwards. Me, personally, I cannot abide wasting an hour a day on doing nothing. I am back on my summer sleep-five-hours-a-night + one after lunch and I still think days are way too short. There is something heavy and ticking in my head, slowing me down, for sure, and I am not quite sure yet what it is, but I am not the one to rush revolutions/surprises my brain gives me. If anything, I have learned to give them time, because if I do what I always do – jump off ledges to test new shoes, things just bore me after a few days. I really miss the time good old-fashioned life-time revelations, enlightenment, when you woke up and suddenly knew what you're suppose to do in your life, felt like an actual achievement. I've had it up to HERE with those.

I have an attention span of a Fliqlo clock. Drej supposes ADD was a scam thought up by pharmaceuticals, but I am not much for conspiracy theories and would only go as far as to assume pharmaceutical companies invented the word ‘manageable’. A manageable disease, a manageable condition. A hyperactive child is not a sick child, but who has time to deal with everything they want to do? They used to put poppy in milk for small children so that they wouldn’t nag while adults had to work the fields. That proved a colossally ill-advised idea.

I know myself very well. I know that I lose the attention span in an hour max, though usually it’s more like half of an hour. To prolong that, say, like when I draw, I have to watch a movie during. Then I get up and get something to drink, which I usually forget about by the time I get to the club table, because I have a book there waiting and I’ll sit down to read something for fifteen or so minutes. I have books in all the rooms and I read them the same way. My brain has a wholesome capacity to read any number of books at any time and I’ll be able to quote back what I read about last for any of them, plot, author bio and anecdotes and everything. But then I’ll make an event of making myself ice coffee or I’ll just get the urge to climb up on top of the bed and watch the General sleep. Then he’ll shoo me away and I’ll look up something to browse on the web, look up some trailers or some non-violent world news, do my WoW dailies and get up to switch the settings on the fan. Oh, and there’s that book I was reading earlier, I may pick that up now, that I’m already by the sofa. I also feel like showering. Uu, and someone’s sent me a text, asking me out for a drink! I can totally do that before lunch.

It’s a miracle I get anything done, I know. But I do. It’s called managing a condition. Which may or may not be fiction. Did I mention I arranged all my colour pencils in the new retro tin cans I bought earlier, when I was supposed to be buying the milk? I love the smell of new magazines.