lists
Okay..one of the ravages of age is the inability to remember those mundane, stupid little things such as what assignment is due when, when is the car payment due, your next doctor’s appointment..stuff like that. So, in an effort to not to appear as seriously senile as I feel most days, I have turned to the habit of making lists or notes which turn into lists for most everything I do. I am forever indebted to the guy at 3M who messed up on his adhesive formula and gave the messed up papers with the glue that didn’t stick permanently to his secretary who found a gazillion uses for those pieces of paper with the glue that doesn’t permanently stick.
I also appreciate the designer of the rather wide dashboards that are in Dodge Caravans because when combined with those little pieces of paper with the glue that doesn’t stick permanently, those dashboards make quite a cool, miniature bulletin board for posting notes and lists of things you need to remember from Point A to Point B.
Another way I keep track of what I need to do when, how, where and for or to whom, is by sending myself emails. On both my school computer and my home computer, I have a person in my address book known as “Me.” Surprisingly enough that clever little nickname came from…wait for it… me! Anyhow, “Me” gets emails regularly throughout the day.
My children, who consider themselves experts on my mental demise, and indeed they should since they were the major contributors to that same said demise, now know if they need me to remember something really, really important, such as they need some more money, they can call my cell phone and leave me a voicemail. Since they know that I don’t want them to be reduced to panhandling on the streets of Orlando, they are fairly certain that some action will be done on their “emergency” because what mother would want her child thrown out on the streets like the millions of strange people who roam Main Street, Disney or sleep in never-never land.
At times, I have actually made a list in order to remind myself of the numerous other lists I have created.
Is it time for me to schedule an appointment with those nice men who wear those matching white outfits and want to bring me a new coat every time they visit me? Just because I have color coded notes with the glue that doesn’t permanently stick all over my possessions, does that put me on “the apartment’s rented but nobody’s is at home list”
How about those days when I manage to drag myself home after “one of those days” at school? Because I have had the energy sucked out of me, does that mean I am going to be listless for the rest of the evening?
There is something really reassuring when your desk, which was covered at the beginning of the day with multiple stacks of vibrantly colored pieces of paper with the glue that doesn’t permanently stick suddenly has only one, lonely note crying in the wilderness. That note that reads. ”Welcome to Someday, when I get everything done.” Why do I feel compelled to immediately write a note to write in my journal about the day I ran out of lists.
I also appreciate the designer of the rather wide dashboards that are in Dodge Caravans because when combined with those little pieces of paper with the glue that doesn’t stick permanently, those dashboards make quite a cool, miniature bulletin board for posting notes and lists of things you need to remember from Point A to Point B.
Another way I keep track of what I need to do when, how, where and for or to whom, is by sending myself emails. On both my school computer and my home computer, I have a person in my address book known as “Me.” Surprisingly enough that clever little nickname came from…wait for it… me! Anyhow, “Me” gets emails regularly throughout the day.
My children, who consider themselves experts on my mental demise, and indeed they should since they were the major contributors to that same said demise, now know if they need me to remember something really, really important, such as they need some more money, they can call my cell phone and leave me a voicemail. Since they know that I don’t want them to be reduced to panhandling on the streets of Orlando, they are fairly certain that some action will be done on their “emergency” because what mother would want her child thrown out on the streets like the millions of strange people who roam Main Street, Disney or sleep in never-never land.
At times, I have actually made a list in order to remind myself of the numerous other lists I have created.
Is it time for me to schedule an appointment with those nice men who wear those matching white outfits and want to bring me a new coat every time they visit me? Just because I have color coded notes with the glue that doesn’t permanently stick all over my possessions, does that put me on “the apartment’s rented but nobody’s is at home list”
How about those days when I manage to drag myself home after “one of those days” at school? Because I have had the energy sucked out of me, does that mean I am going to be listless for the rest of the evening?
There is something really reassuring when your desk, which was covered at the beginning of the day with multiple stacks of vibrantly colored pieces of paper with the glue that doesn’t permanently stick suddenly has only one, lonely note crying in the wilderness. That note that reads. ”Welcome to Someday, when I get everything done.” Why do I feel compelled to immediately write a note to write in my journal about the day I ran out of lists.
posted by Susan at
9:01 AM
2 Comments:
You feel compelled to write because you're a writer. That's what we do.
By
Donna Sewell, at 9:07 AM
My only problem with the post-it notes is that they are not large enough to contain all the junk I have to do. And, considering my last school, if I left them on my desk, there is a good chance that the rain would wash them away. Yes, my classroom was the "rain forest." I came in numerous mornings with my nice yellow post-it notes morphed into Van Gogh paintings. So, now I keep a fat notebook in my purse to keep up with my lists.
By
Mary Poppins, at 9:08 AM
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