I’m not sure if I’ve ever confessed this out loud but I have the worse memory of anyone I know. And I’m pretty sure that I have the worse memory of anyone you know too. Just the fact that I can’t even remember if I’ve ever TOLD you about my memory serves as a kind of proof, right? Another great indication is that I’ve been knighted the queen of lists. (As an aside, can queens be knighted?)
My memory, also known as my “disability”, is something I’ve learned to live with. The same goes for the rest of my family. My kids, for example, have been reliably telling me where we park the car after an afternoon of shopping since they were four. And post-it notes are like milk and eggs around here. Essentials of our everyday lives.
But of course nothing is ever ALL bad, right? I mean, there are some perks that come with this sort of disability. Like when I forget to do laundry after being told (apparently) by one of my pre-teenage kids how important it is that they have a certain top ready for school. I can cover my ass by saying, “oops. I forgot.” (This never actually happened. I’m just saying.)
So the question is, how do the rest of us manage when that part of the brain, the memory part, is dysfunctional?
The answer? LISTS!
Except my lists are not like anyone else’s. You know. Short and sweet with bullet points. No. My lists include paragraphs. And I never abbreviate anything. I tried once but later on when it came to referring to my list, I couldn’t figure out what I meant.
Does “ap” mean appointment, application or apartment? And what the hell is L.M.???
So now my lists are long, descriptive and leave no room for, um, forgetting what I mean. My grocery lists resemble the creative brief of a large brand corporation:
– Cranberry juice (but not the generic kind because the kids hated it last time but the brand name one . . . Ocean something . . .and not the raspberry mix, it’s too sweet. And if it’s on sale buy four. IMPORTANT: if I buy four, remember where I store them so that I don’t discover a sticky pile of fermented plastic at some point in the future – Again!)
– Popcorn (try the new one I saw the commercial for . . . the microwaveable one . . . brand name starts with a . . . P? T? Damn. A consonant.)
All this to say that duct tape is NOT the end all, cure all solution to every problem on this planet.
When you have a bad memory, lists are definitely the way to go.