Monday, March 24, 2014

Day L: Scatterbrained

It's not that I am forgetful. If that were the case, I'd have no memory for names or dates or places. I remember things, and remember them well. Significant moments and small, intimate encounters rarely escape me. Probably because I focus on them too diligently? I'm an extractor. I like to make sure I've exhausted every possible drop of insight or excitement from the situation, understanding it wholly and completely, focusing every last ounce of mental, emotional, and physical strength available until the event has been parsed into thousands of tiny memories.

Shit, I need to clean my computer. The screen is so gross. I mean, it's not gross. It's just a little, um, filmy? I suppose a micro layer of dust and spotty grime never ruined a computer, but, Jesus, let's get it together, Plattner.

Kyle pointed out last night that whenever I get upset with myself, I say: "c'mon, Plattner" or "Plattner, what's wrong with you?!" Probably conditioning. Never do I say: "Josh! Get your shit together!" or "Oops, missed again, Josh." Maybe my surname is just more discipline-able? In any case, now you all know that I yell at myself when I'm upset. So I'm sure I look incredibly stable. But, go ahead, just try to tell me you've never talked to yourself. You can say whatever you'd like, I wont believe you. Everyone does it. 

I hope.

Hope is one of those four letter words that doesn't often lead where it needs to. Have you ever thought about that? I wonder how many times we've hoped for this or asked for that, only to have our dreams and aspirations dashed by some twist of fate. Sure, there are plenty of instances where hope has led to success and joy, but don't you think the scales are stacked in favor of disappointment? The collective hope is certainly overpowered by the collective despair. I don't know how you'd measure that. Could you? Maybe my attitude is just a little half-empty?

Which is definitely the way my coffee mug looks. Empty. Devoid of hope.

Luckily, refills are on the house at Bull Run.

No joke: as I typed the above phrase, the barista at the counter behind me, Ezra, said: "...and refills are on the house." It gave me chills! I almost wanted to shout, "Jinx!"

Speaking of, Jinkx Monsoon won the Snatch Game last season on Drag Race. And this week, we'll be seeing this season's crop in action. With ten queens instead of nine, I am sure this year's crop of girls will be fighting for RuPaul's stamp of approval more than ever. My prediction is that Adore, Bianca, and Ben will be on top while Laganja, Gia, and Milk will be in some serious trouble. I'm nervous, y'all!

I don't know where I picked up "y'all," but I say it a lot. I can't remember if it's something I've always said.

But it's not that I don't remember things! I'm easily distracted! I jump from point A to B to C to Z and back to J, K, and L. I find weird connections and get distracted by them easily. I lose my keys and phone at least twice a day, but it's always precisely where you'd expect it. Kirsten, my friend and (past) roommate used to have a better handle on my personal affects than I did. 

Now that's a good friend.

I get to see her this weekend! How lucky!

And how lucky that I made it to the half-way point in #100DaysOfJosh without missing a post. I thought for sure I'd forget to post at least once by now.

But it's not forgetting! I'm just scatterbrained.

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