I am one of the most organized, disorganized people on the planet. I call it OD! Organized Disorganization. On top of that I have a healthy dose of ADHD Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Dis… Squirrel! Look at the words in that definition.
Photo Credit: http://www.darenstreblowcomedyshow.com/
Attention Deficit: Can’t pay attention,
Hyperactivity: But always busy doing something.
Are any of you out there like me? Does the influx of tasks seem overwhelming? Does it take you a decade to clean clean your desk and only days for it to disappear beneath a stack of stuff again? Here’s how I am learning to survive.
Well, it’s another Lighten Up Monday! This video is a perfect example of why I worry about our attachments to digital devices these days. I think we’re all guilty of becoming addicted at some point or another. Be sure you watch the clip all the way to the end…
The expression behind the eight ball comes from the pool-table. In some pool games, sinking or even touching the eight-ball is taboo except in the final play of the game. To be “behind the eight-ball” is to be unable to proceed with scoring important points in the game.
At some point in time all of us find “the demands on our time” looming like a monstrous eight ball obstructing our view and enjoyment of some of the most important things in life.
I have been there and done that. Wait! I still can fall into that trap. But every once in a while I get a glimpse of the open pocket and a chance to score some important points in life. The eight-ball isn’t gone but it is smaller. There are some steps to get around it that can lead to some amazingly stress free moments of real life.
I hope you will find these insights helpful as you face the eight- balls in your life.
Last night I walked into a fine dining establishment and was shocked by what I saw. Couples, families, groups of friends sitting together at tables yet absorbed in different worlds, each staring into the device of their choice, oblivious to the souls around them.
Last week I watched a 13 year old girl walk into a light post while texting.
Last month I attended my 50 year class reunion.
Cotton High School. Class of 1946.
It was a highlight of my year. I came away with some valuable insights I wish I had learned long ago.