Motivational-Misjudgement

If you know me, you'll know that when I get an idea in my head, I have to pursue it. Not in a way that I am completely goal driven and accomplish my every whim, oh no no! But in the sense that if I don't make a start on that idea then and there, my whole world will collapse. The Earth will stop. The Sun will die. The very inches of life hanging delicately in the balance will suddenly cease to... well, live. Oh yes, when I get an idea, I MUST pursue it. Usually I'll go after it for a few hours or days. Sometimes I'll come back to it later and think "ah this was a good idea, I'll pick it up again some time" and it'll develop into something really quite productive and potentially add meaning to my life.

But usually I won't.

Usually I won't even what remember I was so occupied with that I skipped school or dancing or put off homework to do, until someone asks me about it. This confuses me at first, then I realize that yes, I did make a start on that and yes, I did fail... again...

But the point is, I have to pursue my urges. There is no control. They're impulsive. They're intrinsic to my being. As is giving up on most super-productive things I decide I will turn my life into. A few examples:

- Become a Lawyer

- Snow-globe collector

- Write a book about my cat

- Become a teacher

- Pine-cone collector

- Write a book about me and my sister

- Become an aquamarine biologist

- Snail collector*

- Write a recipe book full of my own original recipes

- Become a gardener

- Become a fire-fighter

- Become a pediatric oncologist (this makes a regular occurrences)

- Become a pediatric nurse (also makes regular occurrences)

- Become a geneticist

- Fund-raise for Rainbows

- Fund-raise for TWLOHA

- Fund-raise for The Muscular Dystrophy Campaign.

And that list could go on for a very long time.

Anyway, the best laid schemes...

But there have been many (well, a few) ideas I've pursued and genuinely come out with something quite healthy for my life. Two examples would be: knitting and this blog (however irregularly I may post).

These impulses are considerably worse when I have lots of energy. Not energy to burn, but burnt-out hyperactive energy.

That happened today, I just didn't realize until afterwards.

I decided to be really productive today and was all going great; I'd got the sound design recorded for our drama piece, made a good strong start on set painting and came home to see my sister. We went to the pic n mix shop at the top of our street, I spent far too much, then we went to the bank to do some... banking... Anyway, picture the scene, my sister and I sitting at our kitchen table, munching on sweets. The followinng scene unfolds:

Me: James asked me if I fancy doing Coast-to-Coast. As a responsib- well, an adult.

Sister: Right. When was the last time you rode a bike?
Me: About two years ago?
Sister: Oh... Do you want to go on a bike ride some time then?
Me: Yeah! Oh let's do it today! let's go right now!!

Sister: But the sun has already-

Me: WE MUST GO CYCLING, YOU WILL RIDE YOUR BIKE AND I WILL ROLLER-BLADE!

Sister: But roller-blades aren't a bike-

Me: WE MUST GO CYCLING!

Sister:

Me:

Sister:

Me:

Sister:

Me:

Sister: Get your coat.

All was going well. We located a bike! Which wheel has a puncture? None of them I don't think, but they're flat as hell. Have we got a pump? Somewhere. Where? I have no clue. I looked in the van, Sister looked in the shed, we couldn't find one anywhere. Was I 500% sure it wasn't in the van? Yes. Had I looked everywhere? No. Did we find it when Sister took me looking? ... take a guess... Yes! She didn't know how to use it, but because at some point in my life something must have held my attention so closely regarding this machine that I'd learnt how to use it. We plugged it into the charger, turned the engine on, plugged the machine into the tyers and pushed the 'on' button. WE HAD A COMPLETE BIKE! No helmet, mind. By this time it was about 4:45pm.  Let's appreciate that the sun had set at 4:34pm. But no no, we HAD to go on this non-bike-bike-ride. We went to the shed and I dug out a couple of my old pairs of skates, picked the bigger pair and loaded myself into them. I got myself standing up and we set off at about 4:55pm. I wanted to go to the golf course, but sister said "No! We will go round the block. ONCE." and that was that. Good job too though, considering it took us 15 minutes. I went ahead of Sister and by the time we'd completed our single lap, she was on the verge of a heart attack for the simple fact that I looked 'so unstable in those!'... Oh... I thought I was pretty damn good. I was skating along thinking *yeah man, I still got it!*. I went Ice Skating a few weeks ago with my friend, Ryan, and it hadn't taken me very long at all to get back into it, and I felt it was a similar learning curve today. I didn't fall today once! And I could go pretty fast when I had a clear stretch of flag-stones. I was pretty proud of myself, but Sister evidently felt differently considering her vow that I would never be able to skate D of E or a roller-blade coast-to-coast.

We did however decide that when I go to New York in a few weeks and do a workshop with a cast-member from The Jersey Boys, I should wear my skates and say my life ambition is to get a lead in Starlight Express.

So I've obviously had Starlight Express stuck in my head all night. Yep.

Anyway, thanks for reading, I'll probably post about some of my impulsive behavior again at some point, but until then, you can just keep re-reading this one.

*I feel that I maybe need to justify this one. Yes, live snails, no I did not keep them in a draw until my mum came in and found 1,000 snail corpses. Basically my friend and I had watched a documentary on snails and their abilities of co-ordination, distance and direction. We watched David Attenbourgh carefully mark 100-odd snails with what I can only assume in hindsight was snail-friendly bingo-dabbers. He then went back to the location a few days later and saw that the snails were back there. My friend and I fancied ourselves as Wildlife Investigators (another short-lived ambition) so we decided to 1-up Davy-boy. We put 100 snails from my garden in my small, rusty, old red-chipped-paint wheelbarrow with lots of grass and leaves, marked them each with permanent marker (yes the toxic-for-animals, solvent based ones. We were about 5 and 6 okay leave us alone) and took them up the street to my friend's house. My mum chased after us and shouted at us. We told her we'd let them go. We did. In a stranger's front garden. We more just sort of tipped the wheelbarrow up... in fact, I'm pretty sure it was an accident. I think we never intended to leave them there. We were going to go to my friend's house and just not tell my mum. But anyway we left the snails there.

I never returned to that area in my garden.

SO MUCH PURSUAL MOTIVATIONAL-MISJUDGEMENT.