Monday, March 31, 2008

Maybe I Should Do Like That Guy in Memento

I was born about 100 years too late.

I mean, I know they didn't have air-conditioning, or phones, or non-animal transportation back when everyone lived in a little house on the prairie, and that would be tough. There'd be no television, which would mean no Bravo, which would mean I'd never have learned that the Real Housewives of New York City make the Real Housewives of Orange County seem like simple God-fearing country girls. And I couldn't have a blog. So yes, all those things would be drawbacks.

But 150 years ago, life was a lot simpler. Sure, I'd have a lot to do, but each day would be pretty much the same. Get up with the sun, milk the cows, get the well water, feed the younguns and the varmints and the menfolk three times, wash and mend in between, go to bed about 8, and get up the next day and do it all over again. What I wouldn't have had back then is meetings, or appointments, or carpools, or freelance deadlines, or schedules.

And here's why that's important: I WOULDN'T NEED A CALENDAR.

This is on my mind today because I have lost mine. A few days ago I began to have the vague sense that my calendar was missing. Now I've looked everywhere and it is Officially Lost.

If you want to feel like a loser in a 24/7, multi-tasking, use-your-time-wisely world, just lose your calendar. It's speaks volumes about your ability to cope.

It's like publicly acknowledging that at 48, you still haven't quite gotten the hang of tying your shoelaces or telling your left from your right.

It's like saying "You Who?" when people are talking about YouTube.

It's like walking around with your skirt tucked in the back of your pantyhose.

It's also scary. A few of the dates that were written in the calendar are also floating around in my head. But as I've already written, my cranial hard drive is already full. I really need to be able to delete those dates from my brain files, or else something important, like my address or my shoe size, could fall out my ear at any time. But a lot more of those dates never spent five seconds in my brain. They went from the pen to the calendar, and that was that. Who knows what appointment I may be missing as you read this.

I suspect this happened last week when it rained in my dining room. I had to move everything out of there in about three minutes, and it's not all back yet. My guess is that my calendar was lost in the shuffle that day.

So tonight, I have two wishes. One, of course, is that I find the calendar. (April is a lousy month to try to find a new one.)

The other is that all those women I've volunteered with, who insist that I'm "so organized!", would finally get it. If I'm organized, Paris Hilton is Nobel Prize material.

And if I can remember when our next meeting is, I'll tell them.

3 comments:

Mr Lady said...

That sucks. More importantly, what is this Real Wives of NYC of which you speak? How would a mild mannered Canadian get access to that?

I want it, I want it soooo bad.

All Adither said...

Fall out your ear. Snort!

MommyTime said...

This is serious. You have my serious sympathy. I have showed up confident, with paper, pen and coffee at several meetings this semester -- a mere 30 minutes late, and waltzing in as if I were on time -- due to my lack of calendar in my bag. So I know the problem.

I hope you find it soon. Did you look under the sofa? That's where mine always turns up.