I would like to apologize to anyone who was worried about me* on Saturday (and possibly through the rest of the weekend) because I did not post on that day. One of our two weekend closers was unable to make it in because of serious personal things happening, and our newest fronter‒the only remaining active one‒also could not make it. If we had opened the office, there would have been very little to accomplish, so the office did not open.
Thus, I had the weekend “off”, for whatever that’s worth. I was at least able to get some rest and to get some walking in (trying to be careful not to overdo it). It was all very boring, though.
I’ve chewed up and digested (and passed) a lot of the things that I do for distraction, like YouTube videos, and the Algorithm** cannot seem to grasp my desires and interests as well as it used to do. It’s quite frustrating at times. But I suspect the fault lies not in my algorithms but in myself. I am running out of capacity to divert myself adequately. To quote the Pink Floyd song One of My Turns, “nothing is very much fun anymore.”
It shouldn’t be so, of course (though what “should” be anything is quite debatable). I have oodles of books in my Kindle and even a fair few “real” books. I have a stack of science books above my desk including Spacetime and Geometry by Sean Carroll, and the whole “Theoretical Minimum” series by Leonard Susskind et al, and Quantum Field Theory As Simply As Possible by Anthony Zee, and even a text coauthored by Stephen Hawking called Euclidean Quantum Gravity.

These are all books I chose and in which I have real, serious interest, but I cannot seem to muster the focus to take them down and read them during breaks and down time. I could even be using my membership to Brilliant to review things and to learn new things‒it’s a lovely service/site/app. I also have a lifetime membership to Babbel that was surprisingly cheap, which I have hardly used at all.
This is all stuff in which I am seriously interested; no one is asking me to study this material, let alone making me do it. But I cannot seem to focus on any of it.
I guess I’ve always done better, academically, when I was in a formal program, with quizzes and tests and discussions and so on. But even in those situations, I often got distracted and sometimes had to forbid myself to do anything but classwork during the week. Even then, my approach was never typical.
My ex-wife used to say that I was the only medical student she knew that never studied but still passed everything. Now, that was a serious exaggeration; I studied in my way, but not when she was around. Also, how many medical students had she known other than me?
Still, I don’t and didn’t study the way other people seem to tend to study. I don’t memorize things, generally. I make a sort of model or mechanism of the subject in my head, putting the pieces together, and though this might make me slower to learn initially, it keeps the knowledge in my head, because it’s not rote memorization, it’s more of a system or a construct. I have a kind of picture or shape or edifice, and if I “look at it”, the answers are almost implicit.
It sounds sexier than it is, probably.
In any case, I’m fortunate that I can learn that way, because cranking through things has always been…well, not quite anathema to me, but I do have a hard time.
According to what I have read, between 30% and 70% of people with autism spectrum disorder also have diagnosable ADHD. Now, I don’t know whether this might be behind some issues for me, but my studying, though relatively successful for me in the past, has never been very sensible.
For instance, the one thing common to pretty much all my notebooks in undergrad and in med school is that nearly every page was packed, not with notes from whatever the lecture was, but with doodles of varying kinds, some quite intricate.
Many of these doodles were dark (it’s me, after all) but there were also a lot of whimsical things. For instance, in a lecture in anatomy class that included descriptions of the lactiferous duct, I drew an elaborate cartoon of a “lactiferous duck” which was a caricature of a mallard swimming along with a bottle of milk slung around its neck in the fashion of the stereotypical rescue Saint Bernard’s bottle of booze.
My friend Chivano thought it was pretty funny. He was sitting next to me while I drew it.
Well…this has been a weird blog post, has it not? And I’ve passed the 701 word target, so it’s time to draw this weirdness to a close. Also, I’m not really interested in writing more at the moment. It, like everything else, is in a superposition of boring and irritating. It probably gets that from me.
I hope you all have a good day and a good week, and so on, and so on, and so on…
*See, I still occasionally write some fiction.
**As if there were only one.

The Adventures of Lactiferous Duck! 😀