Creative Nerve
It must be bug season
I’ve been staggering around with a cold the last couple of days. My computer’s been hit with something, too, though I have no idea what it is yet.
I’m hoping we haven’t reached a stage of technological evolution where computers and their owners can come down with the same germs.
But whatever we have, my digital system and I, it’s affecting us in different ways. My computer has taken to its virtual
bed and refuses to access certain addresses, as if it were some Victorian lady of refined society who suspects she has been slighted by some of her acquaintance and will no longer go calling to those homes where she is not sincerely welcomed. Her software consequently has the vapors.
I, on the other hand, being merely a laborer in her mansard-roofed house of microchips, may not lie abed genteelly flattened by my ailment, but must carry out my duties regardless of my weakened state and stuffy nose.
I had dismally resigned myself to operating in something like third gear yesterday morning and was succumbing to a last few moments of anguished immobility before flogging myself out of the sack, when I was suddenly struck by such a profound fed-uppedness at the stagnation of everything – the economy, my finances, the things in my house I can’t afford to fix, my business plans, me – that I arose from my mattress as if a spring had popped right under me, inexplicably determined to change some things I’ve been putting off out of sheer inertia and cowardice.
I had not realized before now that Disgust was one of the Muses.
But even though what it moved me to perform was not exactly creativity and innovation, what I finally got around to today – the first steps of reorganizing and redirecting some vital parts of my business – will allow me to be creative more effectively in future, if for no other reason than I won’t be fretting about the reorganization chores instead of thinking up ideas.
I may, however, still be debugging the computer. And sneezing.
