The Futility of Multi-Tasking

We need to come to grips with the fact that, regardless of what science says about the capabilities and untapped potential of our brain, we are no good at multi-tasking. Instead of accomplishing a bunch of things in the same amount of time, we fail or do a sub-par job at all of the tasks we have attempted; we end up with scalding hot coffee in our laps, food stains on the report we're about to hand the boss, our car in a ditch.

What are we guilty of? If I were to list them all, "the list would be as long as my--" ...well, it'd be long.* I think we've all seen and made ridiculous attempts to be more "efficient" at the expense of doing a quality job. I'll try to list a few, and in the accompanying parentheses will be my own plea on these various attempted multi-task combinations:

• Talking on cell phone while driving. (guilty as charged)
• Talking on cell phone while bicycling. (definitely not guilty. If people want to do this, I am fine with it, but they should be required to have bicycle insurance; that way I won't try something risky to avoid hitting them when they dart out in the middle of traffic.)
• Singing in the shower. (guilty at times. Some would argue you can do these simultaneously without doing them poorly, but if you've ever gotten out of the shower without having rinsed something as fundamental as your hair, your showering performance has indeed dropped).
• Studying while listening to music. (perpetually guilty. Professors would always be thrown through a loop at the random Tupac lyrics that would find themselves interspersed in my papers on pre-modern Japanese literature and Haiku poetry. Weird.)
  
• Driving while applying makeup. (...not guilty)
• The ultimate: Writing down directions given by someone on your cell phone while driving (I know...I'm stupid.)
  

I will make note of one exception that I've observed, at least for males. Men, on the whole, aren't usually big talkers. But something about staring at a tiled wall 6 inches from your nose and peeing into a urinal, while standing next to other men who are staring at a tiled wall 6 inches from their nose and peeing into a urinal, just inspires men to talk. And they do it (the talking) better than they normally would outside of the bathroom environment, and as far as I can tell, their peeing hasn't suffered in performance, either.

Anybody care to prove me wrong by sharing their own multi-tasking triumphs?

To pre-empt your follow-up questions: Yes, people do talk to me when I'm at the urinal at work; and no, I don't like it.

*Kudos to those who picked up on the Ocean's 11 reference, and knew that I wasn't trying to be perverted.