I sit down to write this blog and I can’t think of a thing to say. Funny, cause if someone was here with me I’d probably have a million things to pontificate upon. Really. But sometimes writing a blog is difficult because, while you hope you are perhaps talking to someone out there… it’s kinda sort of a one way conversation with yourself.
But what’s new about that? I talk to myself, don’t you? I have to, because I don’t listen. I have things to do, to do lists, things to remember, things to encourage myself to do… if I don’t mention it to myself, who will? (Note to self – mail that letter you’ve been carrying around for 3 days.)
Sometimes I wonder where my mind is. I don’t think of myself as perpetually foggy of brain. No, I think I am just lost in a morass of details. I will be happily doing one thing and doing it well when suddenly another thing that needs to get done materializes in my mind and I quickly switch to that. Like walking in the bedroom to get your purse so you can mail that check off and while you’re in there you start organizing the top drawer in your dresser because the checkbook was mixed in with all this other junk and it took you 15 minutes to find it. Meanwhile you were dumping things on your bed, hoping you hadn’t lost the damn thing and pictures of having to go to the bank and change your account number or something created a nice little horror movie in your head. (Why go to movies, I can create enough drama on my own for free. And the price of popcorn?)
As I type this I have little pieces of paper hugging my keyboard, each with a note or a list of things I need to remember to do. Invariably I don’t remember that I’m supposed to do them until I see the person I was supposed to do it for. 'Sorry,' I say sheepishly. Perhaps they should send me a photo every couple of days, that might help me. See Jane’s picture, see Vikki do the thing she was supposed to do last week but forgot.
I do try. I attempt to be proactive. For example, someone wanted me to email them a list of starter ideas for recording musical ideas at home. I asked, “please, if you don’t hear from me over the weekend, please email me and remind me.” I’m sure I’ve said that to several people over the past month. But I haven’t heard anything. Hey, maybe that means I actually did it and can forget about trying to remember that I haven’t done something. But it’s more likely that those folks forgot to remind me about the to-do's.
So I go to bed worrying that I should have done something, but I can’t remember what it is. There’s something hovering in my brain, but it won’t come into focus. Then I lie there going through the ‘most important things to do’ list, like: ‘did I pay the rent, yes.’ ‘Did I pay that creditor on time, yes.’ ‘Did I email my students the new schedule, yes.’ ‘Ohmigod. Jane needed that thingy!’ ‘Dick has been waiting for that whoosit for days!’ It’s amazing one sleeps at all, really. Must take pen and paper to bed and write down all these things or they will keep one awake for hours, jumping around creating crisiseses. Sheesh.
Hey, this is good. As I wrote this, I remembered three things I need to do. Cool. Mind you, that means that I might actually have to do them.
Perhaps I can lose the list for awhile.
1 comment:
Speaking of the morass of details, you know the Bruce Coburn first line from his "Open"? "I never live with balance. I always wake up nervous..."
Yep, I feel that way a lot of days.
Laundry to sort, fold and put away. And a list that could go on and on, but I won't because,
It's time for breakfast.
And for smiling at the world. And hopefully for bits of the "Miracle Of Zero" lyric to start popping out of me.
This was a very good post of yours, yes. Funny how often out of a seemingly blank brain comes a stream of great stuff.
I can sure relate to the going to one room for something and resurfacing a half hour later for something else.
Breakfast!
Jannie
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