Too Many Balls

"To do two things at once is to do neither".

-Publius Syrus

Back when I flew for a living, we learned about the perils of cognitive task saturation.

Contrary to popular belief, we don't really multitask; rather, someone successfully navigates multiple tasks by organizing and running checklists, by proper sequencing and prioritizing, and doing one thing at a time very efficiently.

Or one doesn't.

The risk of task saturation ran a little higher in a combat aircraft. Besides all the normal activities associated with aviation, illustrated above, you're often also flying in formation with other aircraft around you. At night. With their lights off. While you're all operating complicated weapons systems. And people on the ground are shooting at you.

They used to warn us that a person can become overwhelmed, and have that Lucy on the production line meltdown.

There's that point where a pilot's hands drop to his side, and instead of managing half a dozen tasks he just sits there, blank.

I'm feeling that this morning. My task list for work hasn't gotten any shorter, and with three trials scheduled in the next two months there are deadlines upon deadlines, with dire consequences accompanying any oversight or dereliction. Plus we're juggling multiple bank accounts to pay for barn renovation, plumbing issues at the Cliff, new countertops at Wyldswood after they were shattered during install of a sink, etc., etc. Plus I thought I was registered for three courses at NYU to start in a couple weeks, but only one was showing this morning when I pulled up the student dashboard. Plus I wake up every morning and spend the first several seconds trying to figure out where the hell I am, between our various venues.

So I "multitask". Today I'll sit in a deposition doing document review in another case and responding to the emails that hit my in-basket every couple minutes, while trying to make sure I'm signed up for Tax Procedure and Taxation of Multistate Transactions. Or maybe I'll do a little CLE. That's due soon as well.

Which is why I tried to pull an espresso the other morning with no coffee in the portafilter. And tried to step into the shower wearing my underwear. And started pulling on my shoes to go to the gym without putting on socks. It's why I now take days to return a phone call, if I return it at all. Seeing in myself the pilot whose hands have dropped to his side as the airplane rolls over on its back.

There's nothing to be done about it, and I'm not complaining. I'm just observing that you probably don't want to be on the road with me, and I'm not bringing my "A" Game in much of anything these days.

And so it goes.