More Forget Me Not-hing

This topic is one that, for those who know me well, can be clocked when I am under brain stress....right Cindy?

What I need to know:
Is lack of memory and space-cadetishness the plight of all we big picture folks of the world who randomly decide to switch it up and tackle a few extra details for a change????????

Yesterday I had a Chiropractor appointment...when I arrived to the office I discovered I had forgotten my wallet. Today I had another Chiropractor appointment, when I arrived to the office I discovered I had forgotten my entire purse. Oh...that's not even the rest of it.

I raced out of the office late for a coffee date, but I had to drive back home before meeting my drinking buddy to get my purse....mullah is imperative for the drug of java. I phoned my date to inform her of my lateness, arrived at said coffee shop huffing and puffing from driving stress only to find her not there yet. "Ah" you say, "great stroke of luck to have a coffee date running late as well." Not so fast--something did not feel right--I told the barista-man that I was not going to order yet as I had a feeling I had gotten mixed up. This coffee date-r was not of the random lateness make-up. Sure enough she phoned me back confused..."Miss Tink isn't our date tomorrow?"

She is one of those women who have the gift I admire from afar, the same gift the ole bff has...and they call this gift Administration. Here is what Webster's 1828 has to say about that word:

1. The act of administering; direction; management; government of public affairs; the conducting of any office or employment.
2. The executive part of government, consisting in the exercise of the constitutional and legal powers, the general superintendence of national affairs, and the enforcement of laws.
3. The persons collectively, who are entrusted with the execution of laws, and the superintendence of public affairs; the chief magistrate and his council; or the council alone, as in Great Britain.
4. dispensation; distribution; exhibition; as the administration of justice, of the sacrament, or of grace.
1Cor. 12. 2Cor. 9.
5. the management of the estate of an intestate person, under a commission from the proper authority. This management consists in collecting debts, paying debts and legacies, and distributing the property among the heirs.
6. The power, office or commission of an administrator.
Surrogates are authorized to grant administration.
It is more usual to say, letters of administration.
7. This name is given by the Spaniards, to the staple magazine or warehouse, at Callao, in Peru, where foreign ships must unload.

Yikes! Makes my skin crawl just reading it.

You may be wondering, "What is up with the stress Tink?"

My reply to you, "pppppproject....ppppproject that I have never done before."

Hummmm you think to yourself, "Yeah so, we all have pppprojects this time of year...get over it."

"You see", I explain to you as your expression exposes your doubt, "I said 'yes' to a community project management job that I feel under qualified for."

I happen to know that the secret is; to by-pass the feeling and just move past the wall of un-natural bent to the land of acceptance and "just do it anywayness".

I shall mention that this is exactly what I am doing, which taxes my brain cells from the constant voices war, which makes me forgetful, cranky, insecure, and gigantically intolerant of Mr. Fairborn's Guy's constant suggestions to "just make a list". Spoken like the natural born administrator himself. I made a list, thank you very much...and it was back home today with my purse!!!


Faith said...

Hi honey. You and I are such kindred spirits. For people like us, you are doing exactly what we HAVE to do to get through life really. Just plug your nose and jump in......" do it anyways." My solution to my insane forgetfulness?? My Moleskine planner. Which I go nowhere without. I lost it once. Cried for an hour. Had a panic attack. Thank god it was only behind the couch. Could have been terribly disasterous. Oh lordy.

Ask Santa for a Moleskine. They're all the rage for gals like you and me.

Love love!

Y said...

Lists belong in purses. That's where they live, happily scrunched between the checkbook and a half eaten granola bar.You my sweet friend belong on a warm stretch of sand sipping rum creations, an empty bottle... list inside, tossed upon azure seas.