Sometimes I wonder if I routinely sell myself short. And sometimes I wonder if I routinely expect too much of myself.
I think sometimes that I ought to be able to come up with really great ideas, really top notch stuff -- and then I find myself having difficulty sustaining enthusiasm for anything more than a short while. I want to be able to cook and bake very well (limited repertoire, but within it, very well), and then I bake something and its okay, nothing great, but I have no idea how to make it better, and little enthusiasm about finding out. I like knowing difficult concepts but I don't like banging my head against a wall to understand them. I am delighted by maglevs and intrigued by transportation plans but have no idea how they get put in use or organized; I think I should, somehow. History fascinates me, but it can also bore my socks off. When I reread The Guns of August I couldn't believe how bored I was -- yet its a classic, and when I read it in high school I was captivated. (Bismarck? An absolute genius. ) I like knowing about neural nets and how they work, and I think I ought to be able to see applications for them wherever I look. Ditto projects and groups like Haystack -- I think why can't I do that? Why have I never been that smart? I want to read more, fiction and serious, hard and easy, but I also want to take a nap, and I tend to pick up the easy books first. I think I want to be entertained more than anything - except even The Sims is too much work for me.
Not sure why I felt like dumping all that out. Weird.
