What I wouldn’t do for a second brain.
While I don’t want a second head to go with it (see Zaphod Beeblebrox), I can’t deny that a second brain would be mighty handy.
I have no problem patting my head and rubbing my tummy at the same time and I can easily teach a piano lesson while also yelling out the window at my daughter as she does something dangerous on the trampoline next door, but trying to write a novel and an exegesis (the fancy name given to the dissertation you do when you also do a creative work) at the same time is beyond me. Which is why I tend to devote my time to one or the other.
Having said that, though, no matter which one I’m working on the other is never far from my mind. Before I started this long Phd road (it’s also very winding) I wondered how it would be attempting both at the same time, and while I suspected it would be difficult, I hadn’t realised how energising it would be, too. The more research I do for my exegesis the more ideas I generate for my novel, and the more I write my novel the more I….
It’s not a bad problem to have, that’s for sure. It’s just the switching from one to the other that gives me trouble.
If cows can have four stomachs (I know, I know, technically they have up to four compartments, but it doesn’t make for as good a story, does it), why can’t we have two brains?