Working, as I do, pretty much in the middle of nowhere, has certain advantages. Chief among these is that I can take a walk at lunchtime, and not see another soul for an entire hour. It really helps to knock out the old mental cobwebs, a good walk. I believe the Romans swore by it. Any way, for the last couple of days I’ve not been able to shake this feeling – the closest I can come to describing it is that, having recalled I once met someone who told me how to fix something, I can no longer remember who, where, what they said or even what was broken. The problem is not that I can’t concentrate, it’s that I don’t know what to concentrate on. Many people suffer from lesser forms: the “I know I should be doing something but I can’t remember what,” or “damn, I’ve left the iron on,” syndrome. It happens quite often; I spend several days preoccupied with literally nothing and am no use to anyone. My subconscious is trying to let me know it’s figured out the solution to a problem, but I’ve got no conscious idea what the problem is.
Well, I took a walk and the veil was lifted. My path is clear. I can begin.