My priorities have shifted around again and I may be downgrading my blog-writing activities to times when, like now, I am too tired to write anything important (or remotely coherent). This has been brought about by my frustration with not writing, and, possibly, Modafinil, which may have lessened the clutter of impulses, the invitation to struggle of my executive function (only time will tell to what degree this is so, but certainly the timing tallies for now).
The last couple of days I have stuck to coming in from work and settling straight down to reading my one nominated book. I have tried to do this numerous times in the past but found it then impossible to adhere to. That I have adhered to this for three days may seem little enough. (It is little enough, of course.) But that for years, this was not possible. Read the rest of this entry »
1> Guitar [up]
2> Chutzpah/No Satisfaction (latest novel) [new entry]
3> Dating site [new entry]
4> Obsession with Macs [new entry]
5> Playstation [new entry]
6> Obsession over making a guitar/customising [new entry]
7> Gym [up]
8> Tristram Shandy. Displacement (I must read Sterne to write Chutzpah) [up]
9> Music in general, buying, listening [up]
10>
Checkmate (formal struggles) [down]
Lanark (does nothing for me) [down]
Book Club (don’t want to be lumbered with books like the above, nor do I want to be some control freak with this a further part of a failure to socialise well) [down]
Blogs (disillusionment [down]
Writing in general (disillusionment) [down]
G/F C/F diet [down]
Short Story reading [down]
(More items discovered on my floor having been taken up from the lounge which has become my workspace. I am now attempting to tidy my study, making it more welcoming so that I might not only spend more time in it, but also head straight for it, but also in the quixotic hope that less clutter will result in less distraction.)
Read the rest of this entry »
The Myth of the Goddess: Evolution of an Image by Anne Baring and Jules Cashford. A biggie. Weighing in at 680 pages this is the kind of book that a colleague of mine, a former raver and current father of a nine month old who once felt the need to kick his brain into gear after a good few years’ overindulgence in drugs and did so by reading the myths and legends of various cultures, would breeze through. I continue of course, to be embarrassed by my own inability to read not only such books as this, but also the majority of books that I buy, those slender volumes that many people would breeze through in a sitting or two but which take the wind out of my mind all the same like a few flights of stairs does to a fat man with a few bags of shopping. Read the rest of this entry »
Books I have taken upstairs that I have smuggled downstairs to the lounge over the last three months of living in this house in a parallel of what happened at the old house living with Mum and Dad of having such an absolute mess in my own room that I found I couldn’t work there. I am trying to make an effort at the moment to clear out my tip of a room so I can use it to work, and so I can have some kind of maintained space that will then help me keep the clutter in my brain to a minimum. I have always thought that the clutter in my brain inevitably caused clutter in my surroundings, but my parents would try to tell me that the opposite can also be the case, and it may indeed be true that if I enforced order in my room and had a basket of all the things that I am working on at any one time, I might be able to stick to that. Read the rest of this entry »
A few movers this week, with guitar going right up, probably a reflection of my decreased ability to concentrate, or perhaps, rather, my shaken belief in my ability to communicate, and my need of something to keep my spirits up. I actually asked the guitar teacher at my college for lessons starting on Wednesday. No idea how I’ll be able to pay for them but that’s no matter, perhaps. French a surprise entry with the original french edition of David B’s excellent Epilepsie moving from my bedside cabinet (with my routine having changed and no bedtime reading since we have moved) and making it down to the stack of briefly-favoured books in the lounge and a few french graphic novels that would have been ordered in a lax day at work if it weren’t for the fact that I didn’t have a credit card with me. Graphic novels in general are up, with Jeffrey Brown’s touching Clumsy having scored a hit over John Irving’s involving but long prose A Prayer for Owen Meany, being read over two days, and his sequal ordered today from E-Bay. Prose then, is down, and certainly prose fiction is struggling to keep its lustre with the paperback edition of Bleak House having long-ago stalled. Audiobooks would still be in, no doubt, if it were not for the fact of being unable to access them from my own computer. Russian, though, is likely to take a nosedive with the disappointment of failing to get anywhere with it while the Russian student was around at work. Cooking had a good weekend, with cooking a lasagne and a g/f c/f curry for a student and another member of staff while on holiday, but perfectionism means it’s no longer treated with the same enthusiasm. The diet? Disillusionment has certainly set in and with it a number of infractions. Read the rest of this entry »
1> Write Introducing Nat “Where’s the omelete/” chapter
rationale: to get further with this novel, which completely possesses me still. Read the rest of this entry »
/ one hour or equivalent
> significant breakthrough
~ wavering
< significant hold-up/stall
* prioritised (de facto)
.. slow steady
# external glitch
October 2005
In Progress
Job Searching
Nutrition:
Potatoes not Prozac
Website – autism
Other
Food Diary
HTTP **///////
In the Black ..,..,..
Brick by Brick ~,~,<
Unforgiving Minutes <,~,..
Czech
exercise
Targets
Czech three times a week