The last few days, I’ve been finding that the constant twitch-muscle-type effect of constant information flow is making my brain feel restless, worried, and unable to focus on all the things I’m excited about working on.
This morning, the fella’s alarm went off, making its loveable sound like someone pressing a Dremel tool to my ear, and my brain was off to the races. Rather than rolling over and checking who said what on Twitter or whether I had any e-mails, I started thinking about a last-minute webinar invitation I had to write for my client today. All kinds of ideas tumbled out like a box of Slinkies down the stairs, and I had to get up.
So here it is, 9:23AM, and I’ve already done my work for the day. There’s more — there’s always more — but that was the piece I had to write. And there’s a boatload of other things I want to work on, learn, or read, so I’m tempted to keep ‘net access off today.
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Oh, the baby gulls who live on the chimney across the street can fly! I was wondering if they could yet, because they’re not little grey fluffballs anymore; they’re full-sized gulls, just mottled and mud-puddle coloured.
I also wondered if once they’d flown the nest if they would go back there — if birds retain a “home” — or if they’d go off somewhere else. For now, it looks like the neighbour’s chimney-pot is still home.
The gulls in Wick are a gang that rules the rooftops. When they see things happening down below, they all get excited at once, and that excitement is translated into screeches. I bet if I live here for a while those sounds will start to make sense. They don’t have a lot of ’em, and they’re all pretty noticeable!
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