Monday, August 22, 2011
The mind of a kitten
Honestly, I have the concentration span of a kitten right now. Attract it with something and it starts to play with it. Dangle another bauble in front of it, and the kitty instantly forgets about the first object and plays with the next.
I am so like that right now it’s not funny. For example (if I can remember examples before they disappear as well), I usually go firstly to my browser and quickly look at the ABC news website to see if the world hasn’t fallen apart. I’m not sure why I do this, as the news is almost invariably depressing.
Two minutes ago, glancing at the Twitter feed, I noticed Mark Colvin had retweeted that Gaddafi's son had been seized (9:25 AM.) That won’t make it to any newsroom for a while yet.
News is instantaneous on Twitter. If there’s an earthquake in Tokyo, I’ll know about it within two minutes, if Twitter’s open. While my nephew Glenn is still feeling the aftershocks in Tokyo, I’ll know he is doing so. I may even know the strength of the quake, perhaps before he does! (Oy! Don't dare look at the Twitter feed, or an hour at least will be lost.)
But I planned firstly to respond to Jan’s and Lyn’s letters, not get involved in news stories linked to the ABC website or what my research assistants all over the world are telling me on Twitter. Then I want to respond to Michele’s and Pam’s letters, and Verdon’s. And Joan – all her comments on my blog I haven’t responded to... and am longing to do all this... and three other friends who have written. And a mysterious chap who has read my blog and has a strange and cryptic message.
I click on my blog because I have the sudden and uncomfortable feeling that I have already written something similar to this weeks or months ago.... I check for keywords that might reveal the déjà vu event, but nothing comes up. I’m relieved. Don’t tell me if you find one. I don’t want to know.
Then because I did that and can now view the blog, I see Scott’s blog comment on the Arthur C Clarke story and laugh, and it comes to mind how we programmed enthusiastically in BASIC 25 years ago, and I can’t resist trying my hand at it again.... But where’s the old Chipmunk BASIC program I know will run on a Mac, to create a little program? I want to try that. I do. The very first exercise or trick we ever learned with BASIC. STOP IT!!!!
And I have to sign those documents.... and I have three other postings open as Word documents I’ve been writing that I’m longing to get back to.... and then I remember a particular Twitter posting relating to this that points to an article that I will lose if I don’t pick it up right now and create a pdf. Hang on, I’ll be right back. Oh and look at that. A message I was about to send 20 hours ago just before I crashed for my siesta is still sitting there!... Is it still worth sending? Is it worth explaining in a humorous way why I didn’t send it...? I could do that. No. Get a grip.
DELETE. Whew. Best decision I’ve made all day.
I've barely started yet to describe the meanderings of my mind, but that will do. You get the idea. So here I am writing this, after sneaking in a comment to a friend on something else that caught kitty’s eye, and I haven’t even begun those letters I want to write yet - which is crazy, because I’m looking forward to doing so. I said that already.
Don’t ask me to write a priority list and follow it. I won’t remember where it is, and even if I did, I would break the rules before I started trying to follow it. Or spend half an hour re-ordering the priorities and admiring the beauty of it.
That’s just the kinda guy I am. Or have become. Forgive him, for he knoweth not what he doth.
Oh, you have to look at this. I don’t believe it – but seems it’s true. (On a Mac, replace CTRL in the comment with CMD – the Apple key!)
But we have to go downtown to sign documents in front of a JP. We have to get that photo ID done at the RTA.
This will have to wait to be formatted for the blog till after we get back. Can you believe that?
Right then. We’re back, and we have the photo ID so we can park in a Disabled Parking Zone at long last. I said to Tracey, I’d love, now that I have the ID card, to do handsprings all the way back to the car, with all the RTA bureaucrats looking on.
If only! Hell, if I could do that, I’d happily turn myself in as a fraud.