| Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Out of the last 10 blog posts, I've only published 3 of them. That's a lot of drafts. That's just how it's been recently. I have a thought, an idea, then poof. Something goes awry and nothing happens.

I really miss writing, and I wish I had the energy for it like I used to. I still get lots of words sometimes, particularly when I'm tired so that language part of my brain ripens like wine. But I splatter this wine through speech (me? being social at work?!) or through text on the internet (I've found some people on Facebook don't appreciate my comments). Discourse, that's good, but there's something to be said about writing for myself. Journaling. Or writing essays, articles, reviews; writing pieces of that nature, for posting on here or anywhere. Things that maybe others could find useful, something I can take a little pride in creating. Of course it's more of the latter than the former, but I'm convinced it's still a good thing. But it takes energy.

Where has my energy gone? It's probably tangled and soaked by the messes I've got everywhere else. That's both literal and metaphorical. I'm a slob, and the task of cleaning my room has been pending for the last three months, or since whenever I moved back from school. I take slight relief in moving out for school again, to be forced to shove everything in boxes again to remove from this war zone of a bedroom. Halfway-started projects lie waiting for a better day everywhere I look. This is another reason I cannot clean my room. This computer taking up most of the table space? I need to buy a wireless card/wifi dongle for it. I also want to buy a bigger hard drive for it, but I'm not sure what brand to trust for it. CDs are scattered across that desk waiting to be ripped or scanned, but I have not plugged my scanner in yet because the cord for it is somewhere I've forgotten. Documents, letters, and to-do lists tangle among the clothes, electronics, and other random objects on my bed. My laptop, resting on my pillow, has been running for 312 hours at this time. I feel like my karma is wearing thin with every day I go without contacting the friends and family I've been wanting to contact.

Multitasking. That's what I think I'm doing, and sometimes I even fancy myself good at it, but I'm not. All these unfinished projects are a result of my badly trained working memory. This brings me to an article I saw the other day on Lifehacker which felt all too true for me. So I need to get back to doing one thing at a time, right? At least when it matters. Or, I could go the evolutionarily dominant route, and give up. Just drop my little projects. Yeah, just close Firefox, close these 25 tabs acting as 25 reminders of little tasks I for some reason feel like I need to get done.

Scrap it.