We specialize in hard to find items
All Categories
CrazyBusy: Overstretched, Overbooked, and About to Snap! Strategies for Handling Your Fast-Paced Life
Share Tweet
*Price and Stocks may change without prior notice
*Packaging of actual item may differ from photo shown
- Electrical items MAY be 110 volts.
- 7 Day Return Policy
- All products are genuine and original
About CrazyBusy: Overstretched, Overbooked, And About To
Product Description Look at what's happened to the usual how-are-you exchange. It used to go like this: "How are you?" "Fine." Now it often goes like this: "How are you?" "Busy." Or "Too busy." Or simply "Crazy." Without intending for it to happen or knowing how, when, or why it got started, many people now find that they live in a rush they never wanted. If you feel busier than you've ever been and wonder how this happened and how you can keep up the pace much longer, you are hardly alone. Crazy? Maybe not. Dysfunctional? Yes, indeed. We all have more to do than ever before -- and less time to do it. In this highly listenable audiobook, the foremost expert on ADD, Ned Hallowell, explores the society-wide phenomenon of culturally induced ADD. Being busy may very well keep you from doing what matters most, or it may lead you to do things you deem unwise (like getting angry, for example). Being busy is a problem for almost all of us. This audiobook is about both the opportunity and the problem -- where this peculiar life comes from and how to turn it to your advantage. Offering solutions to this difficult, complex problem that might work for you, most importantly, Crazybusy may prompt you to create solutions of your own. About the Author Edward M. Hallowell, M.D., was an instructor at Harvard Medical School for twenty years and is now the director of the Hallowell Centers in Seattle, San Francisco, New York City, and the Boston area. He is the co-author of Driven to Distraction, Delivered from Distraction, and Answers to Distraction, as well as the author of CrazyBusy, The Childhood Roots of Adult Happiness, and Worry, among other titles. He also hosts a weekly podcast called Distraction that offers practical solutions on how to focus and regain control in today’s digital world. Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. The Agony of a Rotary Phone My family stayed at a lakeside cottage last summer where the only telephone was an old-fashioned rotary model. The cottage was so remote that there was no cell phone service, just the stolid black telephone sitting atop a tattered phone book on an end table next to a worn-out peach-colored couch. I remember the first time I dialed that phone. It was morning. I’d gone out for a wake-me-up swim, poured myself a cup of coffee, and was sitting on the couch to call a friend to see if he and his kids might like to join my wife, my kids, and me that night at a minor league baseball game. There was no urgency to this call, no need for me to hurry. Yet as I started to dial, got angry, and impatience flamed within me because on this phone I had to wait for the rotor to wind back to its starting point after each number. It was so slow! In addition, it made an irritating screeching sound as it retraced its cycle, like a rusty metal drawer stuck on its runners: 5 . . . 4 . . . 2 . . . 6 . . . I could have entered the entire number on a touch-tone phone in the time it took me to dial just one number on this obsolete contraption. Not to mention how much faster I could have done it with speed dial had I been able to use my cell phone. By the time I had laboriously cranked out the entire number, I was in a total snit. How could anyone still own such a slow phone? I fumed. What a stupid phone! How backward! How dumb! But then I caught myself. This was absurd. When my friend finally answered, I spoke to him, hung up, and then redialed his number, timing how long it took me: eleven seconds exactly. As if putting my life in danger, those eleven slow seconds had annoyed me beyond reason. What a fool I had become. What a modern man. I felt embarrassed at my automatic impatience. I had become a man in a hurry even when I had no need to hurry. As the vacation moved along, I changed. I made friends with that old rotary phone. I began to appreciate what it could teach me. The sound it made started to sound less like a stuck drawer and more like an old windmill still stoutly
