I have a one-track mind. If something doesn’t fit in that track, I’m only likely to get confused.
I’m also stupid. Topics like politics and religion and law and economics make me want to bang my head against a brick wall.
If it can’t be drawn out in a diagram or told in a story, I’m not likely to understand it.
I’m forgetful. And I mean REALLY forgetful. I was going to write about some stupid thing that I forgot, but I can’t remember any.
I cannot multitask. I can only “multitask” if all tasks are dedicated towards a single goal. (Traditionally, this goal has been “keep all patients alive until next shift”.)
My mind is compartmentalized. Say if I’m making a health diagram and you ask me about what I had for breakfast, it will take me some time to get out of my “health” room and into my “what happened this morning” room.
I am slow with words. I think in pictures. If I speak right away, it’s likely to come out wrong. If I take time to think about what to say, it will likely get too late to say it.
Strictly speaking, I do not edit. I dumb things down to my level.
If there are too many different ways to understand something, I get overloaded. I need to be told things that are clear and precise. And if I’m told that I have creative license, trust me, it will be ambitious, eccentric and probably very messy.
I am easily distracted. And there are a lot of distractions in my head.
In no way is it self pity, nor self deprecation, nor humility. And it may seem like a miserable way of looking at myself, but it’s really not. Because it’s the truth, and knowing that truth does not make me any less happy. I’ve been meaning to get word around anyway.
I live in the jail cell of my mind. (In a way, we all do. It’s all neatly encompassed in a word known as “perspective”.) But admitting that I am at least partially imprisoned makes me free.
Because admitting that simply means that I gain the license to say that I do not or cannot understand.
It means I will allow myself to do things in the ways I know I can do them right, rather than torture us all by doing it in a way that I don’t fully understand and will probably mess up.
It means I will allow myself to take my time when my brain really can’t catch up.
It means I have limitations. And while some limitations can be overcome, one can’t reasonably expect to overcome all of them in one lifetime. Therefore, I will work with the fact that I have them instead of forcing myself against them. (I’ll attempt to overcome them in my spare time when there is no risk of collateral damage.)
And finally, but most importantly, I now give myself license to ask as many stupid questions as I want. And I will. You have been warned.
Veritas liberabit vos, baby.
There are naive questions, tedious questions, ill-phrased questions, questions put after inadequate self-criticism. But every question is a cry to understand the world. There is no such thing as a dumb question.
– Carl Sagan
I can’t seem to add tags today, so here are my “tags” that are not actually tags but side comments:
- There is a reason why this blog is called “that lazy crazy lady”.
- Unrealistic expectations are messy.
- For God’s sake, I’ve been answering my own questions since I was seven years old!
- I can’t do all that work by myself.
- The aforementioned question when I was seven years old had something to do with sex.
- Nobody wanted to explain that to a seven-year-old.