Where oh where is my concentration span?

4 Jan
  • It wasn’t present when I awoke from a night of tossing and turning in the heat.
  • It certainly wasn’t around when I started an email conversation with people about my love for Andrew McCarthy and why his work is crucial in the muddy landscape that is my love life.
  • It seemed like it was there in spirit when I reorganised all my project folders.
  • But it ducked out while I tapped my toes dreamily to Sufjan.
  • It wasn’t even lurking in the kitchen when LeeLee Zofia and I convened an extremely late sitting of the Breakfast Club. It wasn’t hiding in the drawers. I checked.
  • Shamefully absent from the production meeting this morn. Thankfully, Concentration Span’s good friend Bullshit stepped up to the plate.
  • It quite possibly in the vicinity preening in a mirror when I conducted some other meetings that actually stayed on track (as opposed to yesterday’s meeting which discussed the highly important agenda item “Which celebrity do you think would actually be good, and not just look good, in bed?” was earnestly discussed).

But it’s completely fucking absent right now in this heat…

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