My horoscope today was hardly inspiring: “There is heavy energy to begin this week… Emotionally you are distracted… Your mind is doing overtime…” Well, that’s horoscopes for you, dealing in the imprecise, never calling a spade a spade. There is a perfectly acceptable technical term for the kind of day they predicted: fizzy brain day.
I bet you recognise these days. Your head is full of a million things you need to do right away, but everywhere you direct your gaze some new idea sparks its way across the firmament. Solutions to problems you’ve been pondering for months suddenly leap out of your subconscious demanding immediate action. Everything you read, or watch, has you yearning to plunge into a scholarly research project and publish some ground-breaking treatise. Your poor brain can’t even process all the thoughts it is having, let alone direct you towards a half-way decent plan of action. Worst of all, there is no off-switch – you just have to ride it out. That makes it a lot like a roller-coaster: great if you can’t tell the difference between exhilleration and fear.
I didn’t need my horoscope to tell me it would be this kind of day because it’s been brewing for a while and, anyway, I’ve felt this way all weekend. I knew it was coming because I have entirely lost control of my living space the past couple of weeks and I have been driving myself round in circles over completely unimportant minutiae.
The thing is, this could be an extremely creative state of affairs, if only one could focus for a sufficient amount of time to act upon even a tiny fraction of the ideas generated.
I have knuckled down and forced myself to do the most important tasks, so at least I’ll have clean clothes for the week and things to eat. Mostly, though, I’ve fiddle-faddled around with unnecessary pen and paper-related stuff, justifying it by telling myself it’s World Stationery Day on Wednesday and I’ll have a blog post to celebrate it.
I was a little shocked, but not surprised, to find this morning that there had been an Easter Special edition of Dr Who which had completely by-passed my radar. I hope the change of personnel due at the end of the next season (whenever they can be find the time to make that) will give me the chance to feel excited about the show again, instead of slightly underwhelmed by it. If nothing else, I hope that Russell T Davies finds some extra lights so I can see what is happening. No chance of him locating the BBC’s only microphone, which seems to have gone walkies sometime in 2019 leaving actors to whisper their dialogue like spirits lost in the ether. Actually, I know where the BBC microphone went – Qatar Airlines have it. That’s the only explanation for the fact that their annoying adverts are one hundred and nineteen times louder than anything else on the planet. Those aliens on that far-distant planet who are only just tuning in to Z-Cars are in for an awfully big shock quite soon.
You see – fizzy brain. That’s how it goes. You start off with a plan to simply mention in passing that you didn’t even know there was a Dr Who special this weekend and before you know it you’re off with aliens and Z-Cars. Which kind of weekend did you get?