A chum and I were chatting about fulfillment, and he asked which I get more from – mental challenges, spiritual thoughts or exercise. Exercise came out as the cheap high – the one your body is wired to pleasure itself during. And I haven’t had to concentrate on anything for a long period of time lately – which is luck given that I have the attention span of a
But you could blow me down with a goose, the answer is tax returns. Sure I procrastinate and bitch and moan about the idea that it’s somehow my responsibility to tell some lard-ass bloated government agency how much I owe them, but damn. I spent about two and a half solid uninterrupted hours of continuous effort on tax returns last night. That’s practically a record in the last few years for concentrating on anything. I had to invent a few ‘standard accounting practises’, but it was rather satisfying. Tax returns – they’re focus mitts for the mind. Screw drinking, the closest I get to spiritual thoughts these days, I’m getting some more tax return hours under my belt.