I have a very short attention span. In my job, I often need to tell people about why it is important to focus so that you may achieve goals and progress in life. I often YELL at people who are not focussing and achieving things. However, I myself never finish anything.
That is not to say that I don’t WANT to achieve things. I volunteer for jobs, sign up to projects, join clubs and organisations, only to find that within a month, week, day, even within the HOUR of committing myself to the job/project/idea, I will lose my motivation towards it. My history in blogging is the perfect example of my inability to have follow-through.
Now some of you may believe that this awareness of the situation should actually allow me to motivate myself to fix it. Not the case. Rather than acknowledge that I am terrible at self motivation, I instead move to my default emotion – anger.
Exhibit A – NaNoWriMo 2010
If you are aware of NaNoWriMo, it is the program where you write a 50000 word novel in a month. Someone I work with encouraged me to do it with him, so I signed up. Then the husband (also known as V) heard me talk about what a great idea it was, so HE signed up. Then I wrote 1100 words and got bored.
V wrote 900 words. Then added 1100 words. He’s now up to 6000 words. And his story is much more interesting and seems to be going somewhere – whereas mine does not. Also, V seems to be putting some thought into his. Whereas mine... well, see the printscreen below:
Now rather than go “Hey, my dear husband who I have a novel writing advantage over because a) English was my first language, and it is his second, and b) I actually read and deconstruct novels for a living, is doing really well and working hard at a novel, which he started because I talked about it till he signed up. I should really get working on my novel so that we can enjoy our success together!!
I instead adopt the following attitude “OF COURSE he’s got more words than me. I have to look at students writing stuff all day, and his job really just involves answering phones and looking at Youtube links. Then sending me the links on my work email even though he knows I can’t access Youtube from my work. Then I spend a good hour trying to find a decent proxy because I want to see the link, which is obviously his way of making sure I waste my time and not get anything done and HE WANTS ME TO FAIL AT WRITING 50000 WORDS. V WANTS ME TO FAIL AT LIFE!!!!!”
Of course, I end up stewing on this for a good hour before he comes home. When he DOES make it home, I am completely pissed off, and the conversation goes as follows:
V: How was your day?
Me: Fine, if you don’t count you trying to make me a loser!!
Me: Your silence just proves your guilt!
V: I don’t even know what you’re talking about.
Me: Youtube and Writing and unusable proxies!!! You trying to tell me that it is a coincidence that they ALL FIT TOGETHER?!?!?!
V: Are you okay?
Then I walk over to continue making my point and trip over air (which I often do) and he laughs, and I try and be angry but I laugh and then I get distracted by something shiny.
Okay, so I went off track from my original point. How weeds are making me a failure.
Here is my front garden in its current state:
The image of this, combined with the fact that I live in Cranbourne may give you the impression that I am a crack dealer. While it could be true for some of our neighbours, V and I have neither the criminal aspirations, organisational abilities or dodgy contacts I assume would be required for the job. Plus I enjoy frequent showers, so it’s not the lifestyle for me.
V and I have been discussing the need to mow the lawn and weed for a few weeks/bordering on months. But then the weather gets bad, of I find a really good reason for us to have a Super Mario Kart Marathon, or V says that we need to practice Guitar Hero so we can start a band.
Then, I found Monty:
Okay, I didn’t really find it. V sent me an email saying “We definitely need to do the garden. It’s past Halloween so I can’t say we are trying to make the garden scary anymore. Plus there’s a huge weed next to the garage.”
I replied “How big? How come I didn’t notice it?”
V: “How did you not notice it? It could eat a puppy.”
Well, I don’t want to embarrass myself and say that I haven’t noticed it, so I answer in a way that will distract from the original line of questioning:
Me: “Oh, yeah, I call him Monty”
V: “Monty? Why is it called Monty? And if you had seen how big they were, why didn’t you say we should do the garden on the weekend?”
Me: “Well, I didn’t want you to kill Monty”
V: “Um, it’s grass”
At this point I pretended I didn’t get any of his emails. Because I have no answers. Plus he thinks I’m an idiot for caring about weeds all of a sudden, when I normally talk about how crappy the garden looks.
And this is how I never get anything done. Because I have to make up elaborate stories for plants with names I never really gave them in order to prove I have seen things I haven’t.
No wonder I have no damn time to write a freaking novel.