I just got home a few minutes ago from my morning racquetball game. Well, okay, more than a few minutes ago. I’ve managed to shower, make my bed, grab a glass of OJ (the new light version! oh, how I’ve missed OJ), take some Celebrex and sit down to check email and forums. Anyway.

Because of my father’s fondness of pot and because I was an RA in college, I’m quite familiar with that distinct odor. As I’m sitting here, that odor wafts through my huge open windows. Huh.

I look outside. Totally unconnected is a guy walking nonchalantly on the sidewalk with a neon orange unicyle over his shoulder.

I’m really starting to wonder if I live in an off the wall short film.

I think my fencing has affected the way I play racquetball. I used to not think at all, or plan, instead, I’d just react when playing racquetball. In the game this morning, I found myself strategizing and trying to make my opponent do what I wanted him to do. It worked to some extent–he’s tricky himself and I don’t have enough control over my shots (stupid not being able to practice). But most importantly, I didn’t get frustrated. That’s huge. I think because I relaxed and concentrated–HA! Concentrated!–on what was going on and what I’d done. Interesting. I also noticed that the majority of the time, I can keep my eye on the ball and track it fairly well. EXCEPT when my racquet zips through my peripheral vision during my forehand and I get distracted by the movement.

At least I’ve identified why I lose track of the ball at odd times.

A.J. said yesterday that I’m happiest when I have a project. She’s right. It gives me a purpose. Otherwise, I sit here and think: “Well, NOW what?”

“What am I here for?” That’s an existential question, by the way.

Anyone have answers?

Categories: distracted