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Attention Deficit

I just realized that I can never say “deficit” the right way the first time. Even in my head. “Dèefisit. Défiisit.” It is the french in me. I do it all the time, with many words. I have a diphthong problem. And I blame Madame Weiner for teaching me what a diphthong was in high school spanish classes. I have since decided to pay attention to said diphthongs when I hear words that are similar in different languages. And here I am, mixing french, english and spanish pronounciations. My girlfriend says I sound so cute when I am tired because, well, I sound even more like the french speaking haitian that I am.

And I come back to the title of this blog post. Attention Dèefisit.

The real reason for this post was to talk about my attention d… problem. I am one of the lucky who has acces to the internet at my desk. I have no restrictions of websites, or web pages I can open, so you can imagine what it looks like: fifteen tabs/windows open to every possible blog/site/social media/portfolio/newspaper I decide to look into on a given day. I go through all the blogs I follow, then the news articles my co-workers send me, or the ones i see through Facebook or Twitter. My email is open. My WordPress is open. Sometimes, I have this amazing quiz website open too. Pinterest, Etsy, The Knot (can you tell I am planning a wedding?) And of course, the page I have to have open everyday: my actual work web page. And my smartphone. And my book.

I go through pages and pages of information, from the situation of animals at the disgraceful theme park MarineLand, to the dress I am interested in wearing on my wedding day, to the beautiful article I read about this woman who is friends with a guy who is sick but later we find out he is also a killer (read it on the Rumpus), to my friend’s party pictures, to the sweet text message my girlfriend sends me, to food photographer portfolios. You name it,  I’m on it. And if I didn’t get to it already, I will now. I answer emails, between two paragraphs from chapter 5, and I answer phone calls while I text my classmates.  I have already interupted this writing three times, either because of a co-worker, or a flashing phone on silent mode.

Too. Much. Information.

And then I realize, my regular thoughts are the same. Sometimes, I don’t even need to have all these distractions.  Case in point: as I am writing this, I stop to think of my wording. As I do so, I look at my fingers on the keyboard. I see my ring, and suddenly I remember saturday. Saturday, Jess and I are meeting the jewelry designer for our rings. I am really excited. And my phone flashes. Sebastien wants to know details for class tonight. While I answer him that he is not a pest (promise),  my co-worker and I talk about some work stuff. And I just realize I have no idea what I was planning to write at the beginning of this paragraph.

Back from a bathroom break, I realize that I never actually wrote that traditional new years post. You know the one, “this year was great, blah blah blah… next year will be better, blah blah blah…” Not to disregard the importance of this tradition, but i guess my yearly review was done in my head, and I simply never got to do it here. You will be kept in the loop with what will be of this year. Promise.

Now, where was I again?

Right, focusing.

 

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