The upsidedown bucket
Yesterday I moved the upsidedown bucket.
This isn't some pithy metaphor, it was an actual bucket. The bucket was covering a small pile of baking soda. The baking soda was covering a slightly damp, smelly patch of carpet. The damp, smelly patch of carpet was where the remnants of one of our kitten's upset tummies had landed.
The bucket had remained in place for a week-and-a-half. The cat puke itself had been dealt with quickly and efficiently, but the rest of the clean-up operation proved more difficult to draw to a close.
At first I felt this was OK – baking soda takes at least 24 hours to soak up odours says Martha Stewart's website, and who am I to argue? The bucket was in place to stop the baking soda being digested by a hungry feline and prevent the whole sorry process starting again.
But then the bucket just sat. The family worked around the bucket, diverted their paths to avoid the bucket, occasionally bumped into the bucket but – crucially – never complete-finished the task that the bucket was put there for.
The bucket pretty much sums up January for me. A month that started with all the vim and vigour a new year brings, and descended into weeks of not quite managing to strike a single thing off a to-do list.
Despite my previous post linking to some really useful perspectives in managing overwhelm, I've definitely found myself floundering this month.
Work is busy (in a good way, lots to share this year) however as we get close to an important launch there's a myriad of bitty tasks that need a home.
Short days, grey skies, blustering winds, the news cycle, sporadic illness, disrupted travel, and mostly-housebound children all add to the mental load and overall scrappiness.
As a consequence I've struggled to get my words in the right order to finalise a couple of posts that have been gestating for far too long. I've found myself in hyperedit mode, gilding the lily of a single paragraph, rather than bashing on with a draft.
Goddam bucket.
Moving the bucket
Statement of the obvious, sometimes a bucket can be a hard thing to shift. Two things happened this week that helped, both involved having a conversation.
I opened up to my manager about my inability to stop sweating the small stuff and he (being supportive and always available to listen) assisted me in adjusting my focus.
It may sound simple, but sometimes asking for help can be the hardest of things, particularly when your head is a-jumble with status anxiety and worrying about people's perceptions of you.
I also had a conversation with Ash Mann in which I felt my spirits lift and creative blockages start to ebb. You should 100% subscribe to his newsletter.
As with many things, I realise I'm in a privileged position. Not everyone has the psychological safety to open up at work, and there's not always the right person around at the right time to explore some ideas with.
With that in mind, I thought I'd share some stories where (gasp!) the emphasis is on tech being quite a positive thing, which may provide a distraction or gently nudge your own bucket.
Let's call them 'nice things'.
Nice things
🎧 How Spotify Tried to Take Over Podcasting
Despite the title sounding like me harking back to my previous Spotify bashing, the latest episode of Tech Won't Save Us is actually a fun interview with Eric Silver about how the indie kids are reclaiming podcasting, and at least some of the doom and gloom could be overstated.
It contains the revelation that the phenomenal rise of podcasting might well be tied closely to the launch of Apple's AirPods, as people suddenly got a thrill from hearing intimate conversations happening RIGHT INSIDE THEIR HEADZ. No actual data behind this claim, still I'm happy to buy it.
🔊 The joy of Yoto
When I think about all of the technology that's permeated my life, the usual suspects jump to mind. However I recently realised that our now 5-year old Yoto Player is firmly rooted in our daily routine.
For those unfamiliar, Yoto is a "connected, screen-free audio device" aimed at children. It's a clock, a night light, a room thermometer, and a bluetooth speaker. But its main purpose is as a storyteller – audiobooks can be purchased as slot-in cards, and there's also the in-built radio channel, the glorious Yoto Daily podcast, and the opportunity to make and mix your own cards.
I couldn't find any sales figures from my scrape of the web, but a snide article in The Spectator claimed that one in 50 British homes with a child under 12 has one. So yeah, it's popular. Compared to lots of tech it's a quirky item of beauty – the Yoto Mini even won a D&AD pencil – and I think its durable, tactile design has helped it insert comfortably into our lives.
I don't know a parent who doesn't struggle with their child's screentime, so to have a device that offers accessible ad-free content without a screen is sooooo delightful.
And like I say, it's become a solid part of everyday life, unlike the Meta Quest that's gathering dust in a dark corner of your house.
It would be remiss of me not to link to one of Ash's posts, and this snippet of life in Narnia Sweden was a treat.
Not just from its descriptions of well-implemented tech, but also the observations on "social, ethical and cultural considerations" and potential (or not) reuse in a different context.
🤔 Metaphors vs Similes vs Analogies
As evidenced above, I confuse them relentlessly. Here's a Gen Zer to explain the difference.
🎵 Rediscovering Read My Lips
Is this tech? I think yes. If it hadn’t been for the social media-fuelled hype around a naked man dancing in a film on Amazon Prime, I wouldn’t be writing this.
I used to listen to Sophie Ellis-Bextor’s debut album a lot in my twenties, so I’ve very much enjoyed tuning in again thanks to Murder on the Dancefloor’s new lease of life.
🪣 Thank you for reading.