Tag Archives: ability

“That’s logistics!” *BANGBANGBANGBANG* “Aieeee!” *BANGBANGBANG* “Stop! Stop! She’s already dead!” *BANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANG*… ahem

I dislike trying to arrange things, as it never seems to end well. Actually, that’s a lie – I’ve not ever had any monumental cock ups (so far), but I do still dislike the whole ‘arrangement’ thing. Which is why half-looking to help sort out our travel/stay in Belgium/Nederlander is seeing the beginnings of me getting stressed out. Even though I haven’t actually done anything and it’s a while until we actually go.

Why must we be forced to actually arrange things? Why can’t we just sit around in our pants, swearing blindly at the TV as flecks of dried spittle fall, almost gracefully, into the piles of our own detritus that surrounds our morbidly obese, stinking carcasses? Why do I have to traipse through Hostel World looking for somewhere I think we won’t get bummed to death (unless we* absolutely want to)? Why can’t I just ignore everything and have it all work out okay?

Actually, thinking about it, I probably can. And now I think about it more, I actually arrange a fair few things when it comes to getting out and about in the world. Not the big things, mind, just the whole ‘getting there and not being bummed to death on the way’ angle. Like catching buses. I can do that.

This means I am brilliant at arranging things. I should be Captain Logistics, or something. They should put me on a shit advert where an astonishingly contrived song plays in the background about how logistics are both a) great, and b) anything, at all, worth singing about ever.

Really – there’s a fucking advert with a song about logistics on it. Fuck this world – it’s broken. I want out.


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When are you at your best?

When do you write your best stuff? Blogs, emails, things for work – whatever. I do a lot of writing, as I may have mentioned (via writing, hilariously) so I tend to be able to judge when and why I’ll be at my best, my worst or my least enthusiastic.

Strangely, being drunk doesn’t actually hamper my ability to string together something half-readable. It does impair my ability to hit the right keys, naturally, but I’ve re-read things I’ve written when three sheets to the wind and a fair few times they’ve turned out to be okay. It must be the removal of internal barriers – less inhibited writing leads to more openness and honesty. And as we all know, they are good things.

Similarly, writing when hungover (hello!) can have a positive effect on the wordage. While there are times when the headache has been too great, or the nausea has been too much to successfully concentrate on writing more than a token couple of hundred words, there are times when it comes out okay. It’s another case of being in a more open, honest state. Though more guarded than when drunk, I find myself being more reflective and talking about more emotional things than I do at other times.

Sober? Well, then I write how I write. It can be okay, it can be good (rarely) and it can be bad. To be honest it’s not often that bad when I’m sober. Unless…

I’m tired. When I’m tired it goes either one of two ways: I cannot write, as my brain will not fill in the words. Or I will write tripe, as my brain can think of some words, but none that apply to what is actually being written about. I used the same phrase two or three times in the space of one paragraph a while back when writing something on about two hours sleep, such was the inability of my mind to bother trying very hard. Or even to keep track of what I’d written the sentence before.

I’m sure there are other states of being I could go into, but I’m a combination of hungover and tired right now, so I’m going to think of some inward-looking, emotional words to write, because I’m a combination of hungover and tired right now.

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