Defeat

IV: Defeat
Buddy Holly just came on the stereo—Peggy Sue. I’ve been writing a book for which I’ve learned that Buddy Holly recorded most of his big hits at a little recording studio in Clovis, so hearing this makes me happy for a moment, and I listen closely to the song, probably for the first time ever. I’m allowing myself to be distracted from writing this essay, but it’s because I’m truly paying attention to something else.

Then it’s gone. The song’s over. I shift back. And that’s the problem. This constant back-and-forth trains your mind to always be switching gears. This is another thing scientists (and many ordinary citizens) have discovered results from always reading short snippets of text like what you find online. What happens is, after a year or two of doing this every day, say, for your job, you find that when you want to stay focused on one thing for a long time—like read a feature article in the New Yorker—you can’t.

I’m not sure where to go from here. And this music sucks. I want to be done for the day. Or at least just take a little walk. Now I need to pee. I wondered if this was going to happen. I don’t even know where the bathroom is, let alone at what point I should allow myself to go use it.
And I’m concerned with the problem of organizing this essay. Organizing essays is difficult for me because I don’t have a very well-organized mind. This worries me.

Sigh. My mom called. And I answered. I was really really going to not answer for anyone. But I just had to. She only wanted to talk for a couple of minutes, as always. And I felt good to talk to her. She leads a pretty lonely, simple life. I can’t bear to not be there for her. Looks like the idea of leaving the phone in the car is not going to work.

I notice that my concentration has severely deteriorated since I began today. I’m trying every bit as hard as I was earlier, but it’s not working. I’m not getting anywhere. Is this thing that’s killing Appleyard having a similar impact on me? This low-grade, cumulative affect on the mind, even when you think you’re concentrating just fine. The way a chaotic environment eats away at your focus until suddenly you pause and realize it’s shot. This has been a mellow session. Less distracting than a coffee shop, actually.

So far today I have received seven texts, sent one, answered a brief phone call, listened nonstop to music, gotten up once to move my chair for the guy who had to get past me with a wheelbarrow, gotten dust blown all over my computer by one rogue gust of wind, handled the disturbance of wafting cigarette smoke, halfway heard countless conversations both quiet and loud, briefly paused to speak to four different people, and resisted getting up to pee. Altogether it took just over two and a half hours for this to irreversibly blow my concentration.

I am forced to give up writing for the day, 11 minutes early. I will spend the rest of the time reading articles about distraction, hopefully absorbing something I can find useful tomorrow.