A story of a man who can’t focus (warning for all those used to humorous stories from me … this is not one of them).
Evan pulled into the driveway and parked beneath the basketball hoop. He thought for a moment, and then backed the car out to the end of the driveway. Evan found the basketball in the garage. “Ten free throws,” he thought to himself. “I’ll only shoot ten.”
An hour and a half later, Evan finished his three hundredth free throw. He had made 62% of his shots. Not bad, he thought to himself.
Evan walked into the house, entering the kitchen from the garage. The kitchen wasn’t in bad shape, but he had a little cleaning he wanted to do that week.
He made himself a quick dinner of left overs and left the pot in the sink and his plate on the table. “I’ll clean up before going to bed.”
He went upstairs, turned on his computer, and started reading email. Before he knew it, it was midnight..
The guilt mounted. He had to accomplish something, anything, just to feel useful and productive. “I know, I’ll do a load of laundry.”
He grabbed his dirty jeans and all of his darks from the hamper and put them in the wash on cold.
Evan brushed his teeth and pulled the cover and sheets down so that he could crawl in, but then he thought, “You know, this would be a great time to start that next book.”
Hopping out of bed, Evan started typing with abandon. At 3:00 am, his head snapped up and he realized he had been sleeping for at least an hour. His neck was sore and he was tired.
He crawled into bed.
The alarm woke him up at 6:30 am. He crawled out of bed, checked his email, washed up, and went downstairs to get a bowl of cereal. By 8:00 he was heading out the door. “I’m actually ahead of schedule this morning … it’s a warm summer day and I’ll bet the fish are biting.”
He set his work bag in the front seat of the car, retrieved his fishing pole off the hook on the garage wall, and walked down the street to the pond that was behind the house at the end of the cul-de-sac. “Just ten casts,” he told himself.
At 8:45, he told himself, “Just one more cast and then I’d better go.” He felt a nibble on that cast, and then he felt a gentle tug. Evan gave the line a jerk, but the hook didn’t set and the fish was gone.
Inspired, Evan kept on fishing. At 9:40 he knew that if he didn’t leave immediately, he wouldn’t get in to work until after 10:00. Grudgingly, Evan walked back to the house, put his fishing rod away, and got in the car to drive to work.
Evan struggled to focus on work. He was tired; moreover, he kept thinking about all the projects at home that needed his attention, along with all the hobbies and interests that were also vying for his time. He honestly tried to work; he wanted to be productive. His mind wouldn’t cooperate though; Evan’s brain was as though it were a gear that couldn’t get engaged.
At 5:00 pm, Evan again felt weary relief, and he walked out to the parking lot. As he got into his car, he remembered the emergency money that he kept in his ash tray. He carefully counted it. He had enough for four games of bowling. Of course, he could use his credit card if necessary.
As Evan put on the rented bowling shoes, he told himself, “Just a few games, then I’ll go home and get some of these projects done.”
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