My inability to recognise people is ruining movies

I have a lot of trouble recognising people, and it seriously interferes with my enjoyment of certain movies.

On a scale of 1 to 10, my ability to recognise people I’ve met before is beyond terrible.

At times this is inconvenient, like when I introduce myself to someone at conference and they gently remind me that we’ve met at several conferences before. Same thing at meetings.

Fortunately I can smile sweetly, which usually stops them being too mad.

Look, it’s not my fault that all people look the same. They all have hair, except the ones who don’t. They all have faces, except the ones who don’t. And they all have a body, two arms, and two legs. Except the ones who don’t.

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A depressing book and a jelly bean book

Just when I believed all books were out to depress me, along came a beautiful jelly bean book that restored my faith in the ridiculous.

I’ve been perpetually overwhelmed recently, which I expect relates to my inability to say no to pretty much anything. Except seafood. I’m quite happy to say no to seafood.

This has had several consequences. First, my brain has decided 4am is the appropriate time to wake up on the weekend. I’ve spoken sternly to it, but it insists. Hence I get to read for an hour or two in bed before I get up on Saturdays. I also get to spend the whole day exhausted.

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Would you cheat on your WIP?

In which I contemplate starting writing a new novel before I finish my current one, and try to take my WIP’s feelings into account.

I know I said I wasn’t going to write about writing too much, but I didn’t say I’d never do it. Today is one of those.

Where my writing is at

I’ve got to that point where each edit of my work in progress (WIP) results in fewer and fewer changes, and I can feel I’m near the end. At least at the beginning of the end. Or possibly getting near the beginning of the end.

Whatever. I’m close.

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How I believe I spend my day vs how I actually spend my day

How I believe I spend my day: sunrise

Self-deception is a fine art with a long and hallowed tradition. I’ve been getting gold stars in it since primary school.

In order to celebrate my continued success in this arena, I thought I’d lay out and admire how badly I deceive myself about how I spend my weekdays.

5:30am: My alarm goes off

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What are your stress dreams?

Not a stressful river

There are certain dreams I frequently have when I’m stressed. They probably say something deep (and not very flattering) about my psyche.

Perhaps weirdly, they’re not about the most calamitous events–in the scheme of things they’re closer to laughable–but that doesn’t stop them being terribly stressful to live (or dream) through.

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