Chinese Whistlers Mother

I was looking at a home delivered pizza the other day and that got me thinking. "That got me thinking" is a phrase I use rather a lot and would probably come as something of a surprise to those family members who know me well. To explain, when I say "that got me thinking" what I actually mean is; the handful of semi functional synapses I still possess careened off on an irrelevant tangent without much input from me. It is not unknown for me to start cleaning my teeth and wind up a few minutes later wondering why I'm in the bathroom and what the hell is that sticking out of my mouth?

It's possible I have attention deficit disorder although I think those people are supposed to be active. I consider registering a pulse to be sufficient exercise for one day. My brother was diagnosed with hyperactivity when he was a child. We were advised to feed him boring things. I must ask him how that worked out. Assuming I remember.

It is difficult to distinguish between mental decay and simply poor attention span. All I know is that my train of thought strongly resembles a series of Chinese whispers where the end result bears no resemblance to the original thought. Always assuming there was an original thought, most of my thoughts turn out to be sadly unoriginal as frequent readers of this blog could testify. I've given up attributing the jokes I've stolen from elsewhere partially because there are too many of them but mainly because I'm lazy. Sometimes, by dint of great effort, I can recapture the original thought that led to the ongoing series of increasing irrelevant musings and when I do I always feel a great sense of achievement. Let's just think about that for a moment. I get excited when I can remember what I was thinking about five minutes ago.

Possibly I should be concerned but its difficult to muster up the energy. Considering the amount of coffee I drink I should be bouncing off the walls but instead I yawn and roll over occasionally. This is sometimes embarrassing, particularly when I do it at work. It's even more embarrassing when I roll right out of my chair. I generally fumble for something on the ground to make it look deliberate but I don't think I'm fooling anyone.

I like coffee. Of all my collection of vices, neuroses and bad habits (which I collectively call my personality) coffee is the only one I think I would fight to retain. Or at least complain bitterly upon losing. There is nothing better than sitting in a cafe with a cup of coffee and the promise of more to come as long as the money holds out. The important word in that last sentence is "money" so I guess I'm not quitting my job any time soon. I'd probably better stop sleeping there as well.

It isn't as though I'm missing any sleep either, I do it almost every night. Nevertheless I shamble through the day longing for my bed or somebodies bed anyway. At my age it doesn't pay to be too particular. Anyway the point I'm really trying to make is; isn't it great that we live in a society where for a modest fee pizza can be delivered to your door? I think there's something in that for all of us.