The Invisible Hand

For my academic work, I currently spend a lot of time at my computer. The school I attend puts almost every lecture given on the web to ensure that students have easy access to the material. I appreciate the ease of access and information at my fingertips. However, therein lies the problem: my fingers. I do not have a problem with keeping myself on task with an independent schedule. I have no issue studying for extended periods of time, or watching a lecture on a video screen, or feeling isolated from my classmates, or any of the myriad of other potential problems.

Instead, I will be intently listening to a lecture on internuclear opthalmoplegia and my fingers start to wander. My mind is still focused, but the next thing I know, I am no longer staring at a fuzzy video rendition of a powerpoint slide, but at my open inbox with 25 new e-mails. I look down, and find my fingers typing away a reply to a message I haven't even consciously read. I hate facebook, but about twenty minutes in to every lecture, I find my fingers reading the wall posts of kids I went to fifth grade camp with. How did I get here? I always wonder.

The computer streaming is not the problem, but it clearly amplifies the problem. In a lecture hall with notes, I can only play with my pencil, draw random shapes, and count the number of bricks on the wall for so long. Each of those tasks is only a slight improvement from listening to a lecturer drone on. However, writing, checking, replying, wall-posting, poking, fantasy baseball managing, newspaper reading, and financial institution check-ups are all quite more engaging than a lecture, and like a reflex, when my mind tires of engaging information, my fingers wander.

A new phenomena has also manifested itself in my graduate studies, which is not coincidental to my wandering hands. After studying for so many hours, my mind actually feels sore. As ridiculous as it sounds, after a day of studying, a stack of notes look like two sixty-five pound barbells at the end of my bicep workout. I can feel my mind cringe. When this pain starts to creep in to my lecture watching is when my fingers start to wander. Although, I suppose it is better than the alternative, because, as they say, "idle hands are the devil's workshop."