You Must Remember This… Maybe Make a List

I don’t remember things.

In our relationship, my wife is the “rememberer.” I am the forgetful Mad Hatter of my own little tea party asking, “What was that thing I was supposed to do?” and, “If I can’t remember it, could it really have been that important?”

Yes. Yes, it could have been, and it was, and since I forgot, I’ll now have to spend another 30 minutes in rush-hour traffic to retrieve the cat’s medicine from the pharmacy across town.

Dang it!

But with a list … Oh, with a list, I am the Astounding Rememberina! Sometimes I even remember things from the list without looking at the list.

The moment of sanity that leads me to write the item onto the scrap of paper turns thought into action. That act of penmanship occasionally cements a list item into my brain like a magical postman delivering the memory to my mind’s mailbox.

We’re traveling next week for my niece’s wedding, so whenever I remember something that needs to be done before I leave, time to add to the Things to Do Before We Go list!

• Bake bread
• Feed and freeze starters
• Pull out luggage for trip
• Pack luggage
• Take photo of afghan I made for the wedding gift
• Pack box of gifts for the happy couple
• Mail box of gifts

I have lists for Things to Do Around the House, Projects to Knit, Projects to Write, Projects to Craft (because I do some cross stitch and crochet and sewing and those things need their own list but not a list for each), Garden Things To Do (which is different than Things to Do Around the House), Books To Be Read (Beware my TBR pile!), and so on.

My nighttime reading happens exclusively digitally. When my latest read ends, happy squees emerge from my side of the bed as I consult my Electronic Library Book Wishlist!

But wait, was that a ping? Is the little triangular library logo on that notification? Is it? YES! Under the Whispering Door by T.J. Klune!!!!

Do you know T.J. Klune? He also wrote The House on the Cerulean Sea. Absolute darling fantasy with queer joy! If you want to end a book with a warm heart and happy tears, DO NOT FINISH THIS ESSAY! Go get one of these books and read it. Go on. I’ll still be here when you get back.

I’ll just add another book from my Wishlist to my Hold list before I begin reading while waiting.

My digital Hold list remains full at all times. Otherwise, how would I stay safe from boredom?

The digital Hold list is completely separate from the Paper Library Book Hold list, which is one that I don’t update as often because have you seen my bookcases? Fifteen feet long and six feet tall. Books I’ve read, books I want to read, books on construction, gardening, knitting, writing, crafting… When I arrived home after my mother’s passing, one of the many bags of memories contained a complete set of the Whitstable Pearl mysteries, all the Morse novels, and several Ann Cleeves books that my mother read in her last year. I plan to spend the next year reading my way through them.

My TBR could literally kill someone.

In order to keep myself employed, I create a list of Things to Do for My Work Day on a scrap of paper based on the list of Things To Do for My Work Week (which I keep in the Bullet Journal style). Each work day, items get completed, marked, deleted, moved, and then a new list begins before the current day ends.

Otherwise, how would I get any work done?!

But currently, my focus lies on the list of Things I Need to Take on the Trip. That list must be carefully curated because apparently checking luggage has stopped being a thing, and getting your bags at the airport takes forever, so we need to carry-on anything we’re planning to take.

Which means that as we enter and exit the plane, I’m hauling my laptop bag, my wife’s laptop bag, luggage with enough clothes for two weeks, plus a casual dressy outfit for the rehearsal dinner, a dressy dressy outfit for the wedding, and her walker (while pushing her in a wheelchair).

She’ll help as she can, but still… I’m seriously considering purchasing clothing and toiletries when we get there.

Add that to the list.