Brain dead

Shame on me, I haven't updated my blog in nearly five days. What is my excuse? Have I been far too busy working? Did my laptop explode? Did my dog eat my fingers? No, 'fraid not. The sad answer is that, over the weekend, my brain turned to mush.
When I was in the hospitality industry, the concept of a 'weekend' was meaningless. If anything, weekends acutally meant more work. Now, being a self-employed driving instructor, I can pick and choose my time off, so I like to take the same time off that Jane does. Sometimes we use that free time constuctively; to ride the horses in Culbin Forest, walk the dogs on the beach, take a drive out to some part of the Highlands, go and see the rest of the family, or, even, do a bit of gardening (which consists of Jane gardening and me digging... I haven't got the greenest of fingers). Last weekend however, it was a bit of a 'nothing' weekend. We didn't really do anything - or, rather, I didn't (Jane rode Lachie). All I really remember doing was sitting in front of the telly, watching Strictly..., X Factor and a DVD of the 3rd Pirates of the Caribbean film.
Hardly something to write a blog about, is it? The trouble is, this cosy, switch-off-brain, unchallenging, couch-potato mode turns me into a brain-dead zombie (cue cheap comments from old friends). Admittedly, questions were posed: Is Anton du Beke a racist, or just stupid? Is Danniiiiiiii Minogue (I wasn't sure how many i's to put in) an homophobe, or just stupid? Is the plot of Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End disjointed, ludicrous and meaningless, or am I just stupid? I have decided that the answers to 66.67 % of those three questions are 'just stupid'. But those questions are hardly the food for thought that sends my mind into a pinball machine of activity.
Often, in such times, I can turn to t'interweb for inspiration; a Charlie Brooker tweet, a Caitlin Moran column, an unusual news item or even a BSM Instructor Forum item are reliable fuses to mental fireworks.... but not this weekend. Sigh.
There was only one thing for it. I needed my pupils.
I loaded up Maybe you've been brainwashed too by The New Radicals, highly appropriate considering my state of torpor, turned up the volume and headed off to Aviemore for lessons with Verity and her boyfriend, Andrew, in their new hometown. From a driving point of view, Aviemore and Grantown-on-Spey are not as challenging as Inverness and Elgin, but it kept me on my toes because I am not yet familiar with the area. Although I always try to plan lessons to some extent, I cannot remember 4 hours-worth of driving routes, so it was especially challenging for me, looking for junctions and hazards, while trying to stay a couple of seconds ahead of my pupils.
The 50 minute drive home was curious. From leaving Aviemore, I drove 33 miles without seeing one single car, until I got to Forres. I know the B9007, past Lochindorb, over the Dava moor is not the busiest of roads, but it is a slightly eerie feeling, not seeing the slightest hint of human life over such a distance. To add to the sensation, my fuel light started flashing soon after Carrbridge, with no petrol stations for the next 30 miles.

So, if you ever suffer a similar state of torpor, maybe after a weekend of nothingness, the answer is simple. Just head out into the night and drive over a desolate Highland moor, with just enough fuel to make you wonder if you will ever reach walking distance of human life. It will alert you more effectively than taking a swim in a freezing lake of Red Bull.


(Everyone knows You get what you give by The New Radicals, but Mother we just can't get enough (from the Maybe you've been Brainwashed... album) is great for turning up really loud at the start of a journey. http://open.spotify.com/track/5cXsjcvQxx1S7jXxah4m3o)