GBOT = Getting back on track as opposed to SOCK or BKKB (which could just as easily be KBBK, except they refuse to walk up the aisle and throw a big party for all their friends).

I must focus more. Must. Focus.

The constant multitasking we're expected to do is not doing me any good. I'm jumping from topic to topic and task to task without paying proper attention to one task. As a result, everything feels averaged out and flat. All this jumping is quite sick-inducing and my mind is as a restless sea what surges back and forth - waves running up the sand and then back into the sea again - bobs up and down and generally just can't settle.

Some peace of mind (as opposed to piece of someone's mind) would be good to have now. Then again, peace is in the mind and not in ancient streets, however charming and where did that thought come from, oh right, Gaudy Night by Dorothy L. Sayers. See what I mean? The thoughts, they bop around sans cesse. It's very tiring and my eyes they become big-big.

Trips: I'm on one right now and this is a chance to regroup, but I've not had the strength of mind to turn off my connections now - who can, all these impending rumours about Android L (which at time of writing has been announced not as licorice, nor lemon drops, but lollipop). You'd think that'd be one less thing to think about now, except that the Nexus 6 has also been announced but as a 5.9 behemoth. Oh dear, oh dear, what should I do about this - Should I stay strong and not venture into phablet territory, or should I be true to the Nexus Principles and buy one for the hell of it? What would you do? Doesn't matter - you're not me so it's all moot. I will have to decide on this myself. There was an almost second trip which came about but fortunately saner voices kept me in check and I decided to be frugal instead. In fact, as the SOCK said, had I done this almost trip, it would have brought me close to the brink, but not quite enough and then I'd have had to do another trip to push me over the edge and that wouldn't have done at all, and all this would have been in addition to more trips planned and all the tripping about would have left me brain-dead with the hypoxia. There is one trip which I do have to plan though and that will take place in the next 24 hours - the planning that is, not the trip although little one is on a trip now and bigger one wanted to go except that little one stomped her foot and threatened to burst into tears if bigger one had decided to go. The story of that trip isn't quite over yet though - at least that's my theory and I'm willing to bet there will more that will come about. William, William, William! Where are you?! Will you be a 404? I shall keep my fingers crossed - now where was I? Oh yes, trip planning - it has to be planned because I have to juggle time, finances, sitting in the middle or aisle, front or back, and expiry dates. I suppose that finances and timing should take precedence here but to get there, all the parameters have to be put into a big pot, stirred around filtered and then left to sit - oh wait, is this decision making, or is it making pineapple jam what LO requested. It's enough to drive one wild - all this trip planning, hoping and raising of expectations.

Expectations: From trips to expectations. Well what do you expect? Expectations that you place upon yourself are evil things. Not, perhaps the basic ones like personal hygiene and kindness to humans and other animals, but anything more than the basic ones will land you in trouble. Bah. Hooplah and Bah. Actually, maybe the problems isn't with expectations the trouble is more that the mind is a powerful thing and you have to control it somehow. And why the hell am I quoting that over-privileged and entitled bitch? Not sure except it was something to say to get me to the next sentence. I suppose maybe it should be spelt out?

Oh, alright. I'll look up this as an exercise in focus:

Waves engulf you, cover your head and senses, and you don't breathe for fear of drowning.
Just as quickly, the waters recede and leave you soaked and gasping for air.
Then the sun shines brightly into all the dark places and you turn your eyes away.
The sun sets, the darkness falls and you open your eyes when you should close them.
There is a period between waves when all you do is wait - this is the time to focus.
Then the wave comes back in and engulfs you again, except this time you breathe in and take in a mouthful of the bitter salty water. But you don't drown. Not yet.
Perhaps next time. There is always a next time

The problem is not the water, the sun, nor the dark, much less the empty desert between waves. It is the oscillation that throws you off your balance and keeps you from focusing. Either let me focus on not drowning or not dying of thirst. One or the other. Don't keep me in both states, at the same time. Sheesh.

Mnemonics indeed. Ha. Pah. Spit. Spit. Spit (all that nasty, bitter salty, brackish water).

So am I more focused now? a way. I'm focused on a doughnut now. But as the boss says, you have to articulate your Belief Statement (that the initials are BS is pure coincidence and you shouldn't read too much into this). My belief statement is: The waves are real waves and the oscillation is in the mind because the nature of waves is to surge and retreat. Knowing this, you can deal with waves - how you deal with them, that's a different matter.

Lessons Learnt: Must sit upright to avoid slouching. Must take care of oneself first, as in the air masks that drop from planes - take care of yourself first before others - else you're of no use to anyone else. Children are volatile and know only what they know in the moment. They are not to look forward nor back (well back a little bit) but only with respect to what they have or don't have at the moment. In the moment. In the moment. In the moment. The nature of life has remained the same, but the external forces make it seem that instantaneous answers are the only goal of life. What does that mean really? It means that we end up shipping cheap plastic, and expensive aluminum goods from abroad, and then ship them right back again for more. This cycle can't possibly be good for any of us. I'm guilty of participating in this cycle as much as anyone else. The ocean gyres weigh on me. I feel that I should do something about it. There are so many people around - there are such crowds and there are more and more unhappy minds around, and to alleviate their unhappiness they self-medicate whether it's drink, drugs, consumer goods, or other obsessive behaviour that occupies the mind during the attainment of it, but leaves you vacant once attained.

There is a gulf between what you dream of, and reality; its name is disappointment if you allow it to name itself.

Dreams: I sleep better when here. It takes a few days but the adrenaline levels eventually drop and I flop and sleep longer and feel more naturally tired rather than unnaturally full of energy. I'm not sure how to describe it except that the tug of war between letting go into a relaxed state and fighting to be busy and productive is intensified. It may be a more interesting experiment than not if I let go and sleep as much as I want, and follow the dictates of the body and sleep.

Anyway, dreams. In my sleep, it became clear that I had a dead body hidden somewhere in my apartment and that it was imperative that nobody found out about it because I would get into terrible, terrible trouble. Look, I don't know how the body got there, nor why it would be there in the first place - it's a dream after all. The point is, the body was there - I don't know whose body it was (or who rather) - and I had to keep it secret. Fortunately it didn't smell - could that mean that it was already dessicated, perhaps and old body, or a mummy, not a freshly dead body? - so I wasn't worried about being betrayed by smell. The anxiety of keeping this secret to myself, however, was not borne easily. Well, it wouldn't would it? Good Lord, I must stop with all these 'wells' - I'm sounding like Jean and Lionel rolled into one. And I kept waking up thinking that the dead body in my apartment (where in the shoebox could I have hidden one anyway?) was on the verge of being discovered by unsympathetic people (more on these later), and I'd shiver. It was a relief - I can't describe how much - to wake in the morning and realise that there was no dead body (at least none that I know of) in my apartment and that I had nothing to least along the lines of cadavers. I have lots to hide. Yes...but those hidden objects are well hidden and they certainly don't show up in my dreams. Yes, I`m quite aware that dreams can be symbolic and that the dead body could have represented that which I hide, but I assure you that this was a dead body, plain and simple. Dead. Hidden. Must. Not. Be. Found.

Then the next night, there were dreams of moving things around. Of brightly coloured shelves that held much, but nothing importance. This could have been the result of seeing the chaos beneath the little one`s loft bed and MJ`s space. Or could it just be the clutter in my mind - all those brightly coloured and shiney gee-gaws that clutter up the space and impede and split the flow of thought. This particular dream had no ending. It just went on and there was little apparent point to it. So I shall forget it and let it foment until it is ready to declare itself.

Interesting how the obvious isn't sometimes.

But I think I shall stop here today. Focus flows but it can't always and it must ebb. It behooves me to clean the kitchen, read about H&N, then go get some pineapples before meeting with TE.