A Little Distracted
When did we all become so distracted?
I suspect it is some kind of undetectable virus released stealthily by terrorists to render our society pretty damned useless.
I realised that I too had succumbed to this insidious disease (despite drinking Kombucha every day and rubbing organic kale on the soles of my feet during the full moon) when I proceeded to attempt to drive my trolley up the down escalator at a very large (and very busy) shopping centre in full view of fellow shoppers. Unfortunately, I am blessed with a complexion akin to an under-cooked pikelet which immediately turns a complete violent shade of pink when I am embarrassed (also when I am running – which wasn’t too far from my mind as I immediately went into fight or flight mode).
Fortunately, I am also blessed with the rapid reflex capability of a trap-jaw ant and performed a perfect pirouette, trolley in hand and hustled off into a very dark corner next to the tax agent where I awaited my radiant glow to abate.
I had come to the conclusion that at some stage I would indeed be inflicted with Distraction.
I mean, have you noticed how many people these days wander obliviously behind your reversing vehicle in the carpark? They obviously have no knowledge of how dangerous this can be (or of my carpark driving history – sorry Kevin, hope that Goodyear imprint has finally receded from your left shoulder).
Similarly, I was waiting for a coffee date the other day, sitting in my car listening to my audiobook next to an empty car spot when my friend arrived and attempted to park. A man on a mobile phone, chose the same moment to step forwards into said carpark and engage in a lengthy conversation, for an extended period of time, while my friend halfway into the space patiently idled her engine. He went on nattering, his red beard oddly mesmerising as it wiggled up and down babbling on about something or other. I looked over at my friend with raised eyebrows and she looked back at me and shrugged. Finally, he lumbered off without any hint of awareness and she was able to park.
Yesterday a chap almost ran me off the road as he tried to make a right-hand turn from the left-hand lane (it's not Melbourne mate!) - luckily my three double-shot espressos that morning had afforded me with the clarity of mind to take swift evasive action.
I read today of a young P-Plater arrested doing 145km per hour in an 80km zone whilst watching YouTube videos on his phone - no funny cat video is ever going to be worth wiping someone out on the road.
I think my son has also contracted Distraction. Every Thursday morning at school drop-off I hold him by the shoulders, look deeply into his gorgeous brown eyes, and say ‘I’ll pick you up from car pick-up after school Buddy – meet me here’.
‘Yes Mum, love you Mum’ he replies and skips off towards his classroom.
Each Thursday, after school in the car pick-up zone (which is coincidentally, the same spot as school drop-off) my mobile telephone shrills.
‘Hello?’ says a voice.
‘Yes?’ I reply, knowing what is coming next.
‘It’s Mary from school reception, I have your son here and he is wondering where he needs to go’
‘Thanks, could you please let him know I am at car pick-up?’ I reply.
I do wonder whether Distraction affects boys more than girls. Ask any parent with boys how many times during the term they have come home without a hat/jumper/shoes/lunchbox and there will be a chorus of agreement that this is a perpetual battle we face. Alternatively, our little darlings bring home someone else’s hat/jumper/shoes/lunchbox (their kid eats quinoa and beetroot salad with goat’s cheese? Really – well obviously not…it’s still in the lunchbox).
Clearly open-plan offices came before the pandemic of Distraction struck. I mean, seriously, how do you keep your attention focussed on that riveting Monthly Sick Leave Report when Derek is animatedly telling Jenny about his awesome weekend surfing up the beach? Those epic waves sound amazing, and you can almost smell those fresh prawns they had for dinner (actually Derek, you might want to change out of your boardies and have a shower before coming to work, you smell like two- day old prawns).
And who hasn’t tried to ask their beloved an important question while they are fully engaged in an episode of The Bachelor?
‘Apparently there is a Category 6 cyclone heading our way Darling, do you think we should pack up the kids and leave now or bunker down in the wine cellar and ride it out?
<<crickets>>
There is certainly money to be made in these times of Distraction:
Find my Car Apps;
Find my Phone Apps;
Find my keys/purse/dog/husband/<<insert object>> microchips;
Mindfulness Apps;
Mindfulness Retreats;
The Promodoro Technique;
Cannibis Oil (so, according to the multitude of online forums I have read, this cures everything)
Clearly, the only real cure for Distraction is Undivided Attention ™ – surely the Big Pharma are working on this as we speak, there’s a lot of money to be made…
Now - oh my goodness is that the time? I'm supposed to be at car pick-up!
