I'm a big list maker. They make me feel organized, they make me feel like I will be fully prepared and that there is no way anyone can mess with me because I HAVE A LIST. The list keeps everything running smoothly.
I spent an extraordinary amount of time creating this beast because August is going to be a test of my sanity in pretty much every way possible. But there is a lot of really good stuff happening in the next four weeks so I am determined to not get sucked into the stress side of it so I can actually enjoy it as it goes whizzing by.
The list was concise. And pretty. And very comforting.
I put it on the coffee table.
And now it is gone.
I asked mom if she's seen it. She said no. I questioned Dooley. He had no time for me, he promptly turned away and curled up on his crochet blanket.
I think the reno ate it. It seems to be consuming everything - including my ability to be calm and reasonable when something as simple as a piece of paper wanders off on its own.
So now the list is gone and there is this impending sense of doom just around the edges. I could make the list again but what if I forget something? What if I leave off something really important? If I do, all I'll be able to think is: "This wouldn't have happened if I had had my list."
I'm going to build it again but this time I'm going to type it. That way if it disappears into the black hole of the reno going on in the house, I can just re-print it and feel like a genius because I had enough fortitude to make it digital and it would take a mighty brave and strong person to separate me from my laptop.
Oh and a quick side note - if you've been trying to email me at FibraArtysta@earthlink.net and its been bouncing back crabbing at you that it can't be delivered, that's totally my fault. I have a couple email addresses and that one is my "professional" one that I hand out to anyone who asks. All the email from there gets automatically forwarded to my personal account. Which means I rarely log into it because I see all everything you send there.
Apparently the light bulb never went on that I should occasionally pay it a visit and three years went by without me logging in to it.
There were 5,000 emails in that inbox and it was at 103% capacity. Which means it was choking and refusing to take any more abuse.
I cleaned out the whole mess and found messages from 2007 in there. It was appalling and fascinating all at the same time.
Now its squeaky clean and will gladly accept anything you send there. I am going to make it a weekly practice of cleaning out that inbox so that doesn't happen again.
In fact, I'll add it to my list...