I'm sure they meant well...
Aug. 15th, 2008 08:47 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
anne_d... Or did they?
So I was cleaning out my inbox, and found this helpful hint:
Yeah. Right. Been there, done that. I got your lists right here.
Lists in my notebook-that-tells-me-when-to-breathe*.
Lists in the notepad by my comfy chair.
Lists on the refrigerator.
Lists on the whiteboard in the kitchen.
Notepads and pens and pencils in every room, in my purse, in the car, in case I remember whateverthehell it was I forgot while I was walking over to the notepad and pen so I could write it down. Lists of lists of lists of lists...
And still, not organized, and still, overwhelmed. I'll give you this much, it's very satisfying (or cathartic) to cross things off the list, but there are always more things. They multiply when I'm not looking, like tribbles in a cargo hold full of important-things-I-need-to-do.
Thanks for nothing, Women Who Meditate.
Today's bad mood was brought to you by generic lack of sleep and The Fluffycat, who decided that since the moon is almost full, it must be time to play. Commencing sometime around 4AM and continuing at frequent intervals thereafter. I should also note that she's learned to dodge away from the door, so that I can't easily reach her with the spray bottle.
Now I should get back to my list. Cross one off, add two. Cross one off, move one, add three...
*Which sometimes gets so complicated, what with the rescheduling and the reprioritising and crossing out and rewriting, that I just put a sticky label over the day and start over**. Also, why are weekends smaller than weekdays when there's so much more to do on weekends? Somebody needs to make a weekly planner for stay-at-home moms, with bigger weekend days. There's a burgeoning market as yet unexploited.
**Note to self: Find the safe secure secret location where I stashedDick Cheney the sticky labels so no one else could move them.
So I was cleaning out my inbox, and found this helpful hint:
Yeah. Right. Been there, done that. I got your lists right here.
Lists in my notebook-that-tells-me-when-to-breathe*.
Lists in the notepad by my comfy chair.
Lists on the refrigerator.
Lists on the whiteboard in the kitchen.
Notepads and pens and pencils in every room, in my purse, in the car, in case I remember whateverthehell it was I forgot while I was walking over to the notepad and pen so I could write it down. Lists of lists of lists of lists...
And still, not organized, and still, overwhelmed. I'll give you this much, it's very satisfying (or cathartic) to cross things off the list, but there are always more things. They multiply when I'm not looking, like tribbles in a cargo hold full of important-things-I-need-to-do.
Thanks for nothing, Women Who Meditate.
Today's bad mood was brought to you by generic lack of sleep and The Fluffycat, who decided that since the moon is almost full, it must be time to play. Commencing sometime around 4AM and continuing at frequent intervals thereafter. I should also note that she's learned to dodge away from the door, so that I can't easily reach her with the spray bottle.
Now I should get back to my list. Cross one off, add two. Cross one off, move one, add three...
*Which sometimes gets so complicated, what with the rescheduling and the reprioritising and crossing out and rewriting, that I just put a sticky label over the day and start over**. Also, why are weekends smaller than weekdays when there's so much more to do on weekends? Somebody needs to make a weekly planner for stay-at-home moms, with bigger weekend days. There's a burgeoning market as yet unexploited.
**Note to self: Find the safe secure secret location where I stashed
(no subject)
Date: 2008-08-15 04:23 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-08-15 04:35 pm (UTC)