I had an epiphany a while ago: I don’t run a nuclear reactor.
Which means I don’t have to be notified every single time something’s going on.
Which means I can turn off notifications on my phone.
Which means I can drive home from work without feeling my pocket vibrate. And go to the store without hearing a “bing” about every new e-mail that comes in to one of my accounts. And find out somebody @-ed me on Twitter when I feel like checking Twitter.
Which means my attention isn’t constantly being torn away from whatever it is I’m engaged in, so I can actually concentrate on the thing to which I’ve chosen to dedicate that particular moment instead of being yanked around by electronics.
Sure, I still check my e-mail like a lab rat going for a cocaine pellet, but I’m checking it on my own volition and schedule.
It’s a massive win for my frayed nerves and my sanity—no more voluntarily putting myself on a mental leash.
What’s kind of weird is that at least in the circles I move, this makes me a bit odd.
There are clearly more nuclear reactor operators out there than you’d think.
Includes The Incomplete Book of Running, Aching God, The Murderbot Diaries, Lies Sleeping, The Consuming Fire, and Rendezvous with Rama.
Did you know Las Vegas is kind of nutty?
Includes Hollywood Dead, Tales from the Loop, Things from the Flood, The Court of Broken Knives, and Port of Shadows.
Nic has a retinal tear and has his vision is saved by a laser.
Includes The Storm Before the Storm, White Trash, Calypso, Tell the Machine Goodnight, Prince of Fools, and Provenance.
The Internet tells Nic to install Ubiquiti gear in his house, so he does, and now he has thoughts.
What I wish I’d known when I started podcasting.