Long

There is something to be said for having no distractions, and that is that it’s awful. If I get put into a room with nothing to do but what I am supposed to be doing, what I need to do, I can’t do it, not unless it needs to be done tomorrow and there’s no way in hell I could possibly get it done in that time. Then I can do it. It is widely accepted in certain circles that the impossible merely takes longer, but I don’t hold to that. In my experience, the impossible doesn’t take very long at all in relative terms. It just costs more.

People weirdly equate pressure to having a gun to one’s head although very few people are likely to be productive under that kind of duress, and even fewer even truly understand what that means. I guess it would depend upon what the task was. If I was shoveling or something like that, I could probably be motivated by a gun if I believed the gunholders were serious, but if I was asked to finish my homework or write with a gun to my head, I wouldn’t be able to get it done, not so much because of the gun, but because I can’t type if someone else is watching. Not a thing. I can barely tie my shoes if someone is watching me, with their slitted eyes and judgment. “Oh, you tie your shoes THAT way? No, that’s fine, it’s just....nevermind....it’s...nothing. You do you, man”

So there’s no gun, there’s no knottologist, there’s no keyboard master; there is only me and my mission, and the sense of urgency is in the other room holding hostages. That’s fine. As long as they’re not trying to watch me type.

I think distraction is probably the wrong word for this. Distract-shuns remove me from flow; they are an interruption of process at right-angles (at best) to the intended direction. Distractions are like getting T-boned at an intersection; everything gets violently...wait, YOU get violently removed from your path, and it takes a lot of doing to find it again Distractions are bad for flow, unlike diversions.

Let’s say I’m cleaning my desk. I spend a lot of time at it, so it gets cluttered, and the clutter fucks with my chi, and I can’t concentrate. So I have to clean it up. That’s just good and normal practice. As I said, I spend a lot of time at my desk, sometimes too long, and when I’m taking the accumulated dishes to the kitchen, I realize that I am hungry, so I pull some stuff out of the fridge to prepare a meal. I like to listen to audiobooks when I cook, so I go and get my headphones because I’m also a fast and noisy cooker. I step on something sticky on the floor so I wipe it up, then throw the cloth into the laundry, then I grab a clean cloth and do some dusting in the living room while the pans heat up. It’s noon and I’m making breakfast. There’s dust flying about, so I grab the air filter from my room and fire it up in the living room. I start thinking about my book, and remember to turn on my headphones. I start cooking and clearing up the dishes. I left the cloth in my room, so I retrieve it and any trash and laundry that’s lying around. I put in the laundry, then attend to my food, and finish clearing up the dishes, during which time I retrieve the cleanish dishcloth from the laundry and wipe the counters, then make a coffee. Decaf. I put my food on a plate, go to sit down at my desk with my coffee, and start working on something. I’m finding it really tough to concentrate, and I realize that I’m still listening to stories, so I take off my headphones and toss them onto the bed. I forgot to turn them off, so I get up and do that, and then make my bed. My coffee is soon done, so I take the mug, and my jacket from the back of my chair, return the jacket to the coat rack, and the cup to the counter beside my cold breakfast which I then take to my desk to eat. I have to move the nail clippers to make room for my plate and I look at my fingernails, which are too long for my liking which is why the nail clippers are out, though, I would never cut my nails at my desk, I’m not a barbarian, so I go to the bathroom to clip them, and wind up taking a shower because I smell bad. My hair is messy, and I refuse to be distracted by going and getting a haircut right now, so I shave my head. Then I take another shower so I’m not itchy. Then I feel so good, and it’s so nice out, and I need to move my body at least a bit, so I go for a walk. While I am out walking, mind freewheeling, I have some sort of epiphany. I forgot my phone and my pack with my notebook in it at home, so I turn around and rush back, trying to hold onto the thought. Thoughts like that are seeds that sprout and grow rapidly, so by the time I get home, I have a goddamn forest I need to get to the root of, so I write.

And here we are.
Back on the path, having never really left it, and some good things have been accomplished, though not necessarily as intended.
Such are my days, and some days I really just want to lay down and cry, or scream in frustration, and some days I do, but not for too long.

Nothing lasts for very long.