All of man's troubles stem from his inability to sit quietly in a room. I've seen it quoted differently and attributed to different people, but I think the one in the title is the original.
I can totally sit quietly in a room. I can sit there and just think, it's intellectually satisfying. Add internet access so I can google and I'm perfectly content for hours and hours and hours. It's a hardcore introvert thing.
The problem is this can easily hinder real life. I have stuff that has to get done. I have to be places by a certain time. But I sit down and start thinking and then google something and the next thing I know two hours have passed. I'm content, I'm satisfied, I'm at peace, I've had all kinds of interesting ideas, but real life isn't getting done. I can convince myself to build up momentum and go out and get a shitload of stuff done and I do feel some satisfaction from checking it all off my list, but it doesn't give me the hap hits (as Marti Olsen Laney writes about) of sitting quietly in my apartment.
How does one go about becoming a wealthy, eccentric, reclusive genius with a discreet but loyal butler to take care of all their petty day-to-day needs?
1 comment:
If you find out, let me know. Both the introvert and the extrovert in my family can spend enormous amounts of time sitting quietly in a room. Maybe we can all share a butler.
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