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(recorded 2/18/07 @ 6:04:10 AM)
I need to hire a biographer. Except for journaling.
Does anyone even read this anymore?
Things are busy. Hopefully, some amazing jamming to come on Tuesday, but we'll have to see.
New band to dig: Margot and The Nuclear So And So's. Try A Sea Chanty Of Sorts.
Oh. My. God.
Go see Pan's Labyrinth. Best movie in oh-so-long.
Three active proposals out. Well, one out, two needed to deliver this week, one big project should be coming to a close.
50-something days until the new office.
6 days before we need to cancel the fourth for the cruise. Want to go on a cruise? Let me know before Friday, in the form of $649.
New dog. He's adorable and fun. I miss Cisco, though.
Loves Threadless made it into a book. Oh, and in the Chicago Tribune.
Fourteen ideas for fourteen other blogs. How I wish I could sit down and do them.
Met the guys from Woot. Cool folks.
No trips coming up until May? Really? Surely there'll be Seattle in April? Something doesn't seem right.
Egypt this summer? Why the hell not, right?
New ATV. Haven't ridden yet.
Ask me about Main Street Dive Day.
There's this frightening, almost terrifying quality to having hired someone full time. It means my fledgling business is now supporting three (or, somewhat indirectly, four) individuals. Here's hoping. Here's praying. Here's doing.
I need more sleep, but not much more. In bed before four, up before ten.
I'm burned out on primary client stuff. It's been three years. I need to be growing the business, not handling the day-to-day basics for these guys. It's killing me, and I hate getting nothing done in the office because of it. My motivation is totally dead there, though. It's a clusterfuck, because I happen to be the only one who knows how half the stuff is coded and why it's coded a certain, horrible way. Turns out? I'm not a good coder. True story.
Sometimes, I really wish I were a master of more trades and a jack of fewer.
Sometimes, I wish my mind wouldn't get ahead of me. I find myself mincing words, thinking too quickly to get a sentence out proper. I count on other people's minds to figure it out for me. I've outsourced my memories. I'd love to say that I have great short-term memory. I'd love to say I have great long-term memory. Instead, I have random memory. And I'd love to say I could blame it all on drugs, but I can't even do that. To the people I've entrusted my memories to: please do not die. please do not forget.
Perhaps I really do need to write more into this. It's my fail-safe. It's what let's me know that I have the capacity to remember. I'm finding myself functioning more on barely qualified triggers. If I remember just enough details from a single sort-of passage about something, it's enough to go on that I can search, or ask the hive mind. I'm relying on myself to simply remember enough to be able to research.
Why can't I get better about memorizing?
Maybe I have some sort of brain tumor. If only, and I could be like John Travolta in Phenomenon. Not a bad actor, no, but someone with good memory and the ability to read quickly and think profoundly. Who has time for those things? Really, who?
The irony is that I wouldn't have that nice Flowers for Algernon stroke of brilliance. No, I'd just die.
I forgot who the mouse was in Flowers was, the other day. It was a truly sad moment.
Why can't I remember better? I feel like it's the one thing I'd improve, if I could pick. I absorb so much information in a single day—I read voraciously, I take in thousands of things from hundreds of sources. I dig through Wiki, I read the news, I peruse The Economist, I scour digg and I read. Tons. What to make of my inability to grasp enough for a period long enough? I see Jeopardy questions about things I've read about days before, and they're just not there. They're beneath the surface, avoiding me, not taking the bait, and wishing I'd stop fishing.
I'm sick of that. Do I need to lower the amount of stimuli? Have I answered my own question? Is it as simple as halving the total input and mulling for twice as long over it? If I remember half of everything I see in a day, won't it be more than the 10% of everything I remember now? How can I manage dealing with that, when the nature of my day-to-day involves juggling about 300 incoming requests? There are some interesting parallels to draw, in my regular day, to an IRQ (interrupt request) in computers. Something triggers a request for the attention of the processor, so as to disrupt its tasks otherwise.
Do I need to stop reading in parallel? Or do I just need to get better at it? I've read several books at once before.
This wasn't supposed to become long and disturbing. I put on a good face, and I'm generally pretty secure in things. I'm briefly terrified, but in order to be successful, you must portray an image of success at all times. Right, American Beauty? Sure.
I scare myself with the lies I can tell. I scare myself with how manipulative I can be. I scare myself with how calculated I can be. It's a good thing I'm out for good and not evil, because damn if I couldn't help evil really win one.
Have I ever really feared I wouldn't be successful? Or have I just hoped that everyone's assumption I might make it proper was correct? Who knew there was some work involved on my part? Come, now. That's just silly.
What's my plan b? Maybe I don't want one. Maybe that's what will let me win after all.
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