mindlace

I have succumbed to the desire for a technological fix to my mental malaise and acquired a fossil abacus. I intend to start by running doing
and if that doesn’t work writing something myself.

The presumption is that if I just had some quantifiable data I could more readily understand my patterns of behaviour and be able to review the day’s attention expenditure from the dispassionate view of morning.

I’ve tried a Palm before; it never worked on account of me eventually leaving it somewhere and/or not using it because I have to take it out of a backpack. Gods willing, if I have the device strapped to my wrist I will manage to not leave it at home, a trick I still don’t manage with my cellphone.

It’s funny, how much I wish I could be a robot sometimes. My body betrays me, my mind betrays me, my spirit was sold to preternatural agents long ago; it makes me wish I could just slide into cool, deterministic waters and float to Destiny on the back of my Turing-machine minions.

Of course, it’s really more that I’m their bitch than vice versa. I’m basically installing a timer circuit to compensate for my own baroque experience of unfolding. With this spiffy watch at least I can let the pre-planning part of me beep at the ‘in-the-moment’ part of me and remind me that nobody ever changed the world with a pipedaydream.