Obviously, I don’t have nearly enough chaos in my life, which is why I keep inviting more to join the party.
In the weeks before our son and his wife were due to arrive from the States for a family holiday in Italy, I made the executive (and expensive) decision to commence redecorating the entire house. Granted, It’s only a small house, but still! Decorating? Am I MAD?
On the surface, it would seem this is a pretty stupid idea. But actually, there is nothing like a deadline to force the issue of getting my butt into gear and accomplishing something. Anything. Without a deadline, I just wander more or less aimlessly through my so-called life, making mental notes about chipped paintwork and cobwebs in corners, plants wilting in the greenhouse and those 3-foot-tall nettles in the rose bed that just need to GO. These details and more are duly noted as I drift through life.
I am, if nothing else, an excellent observer of what needs to be done. My eagle eye with its vaguely OCD lens misses nothing.
Mental notes can be helpful. However, on the downside, a mental note for me is, in fact, only ever written mentally. You try scrambling around in my gray matter and finding all those lost post-it notes littering my synapses. They start out so well… pastel and neon notes etched in bright blue ink, little squares pasted neatly around the inside of my head, so full of promise and hinting of something akin to ambition. “Clean the cat box.” “Replace that lightbulb.” “Weed the garden.” “Call your mother…”
Having written these reminders mentally, I assure myself that I cannot possibly forget. No way, no how.
And then something really important comes along like – SHOES! Or, I have GOT to have that – (insert shiny thing here)! Or, omigosh, this will make such a funny blog post… Thoughts and images like these whip through the halls of my mind like a Texas tornado and everything is blown to smithereens. Forget priorities. Forget lists. Forget intentions.
Months later, as I am wandering around up there writing more sticky notes and placing them in tidy rows of promise, I make yet another mental note to sweep up all those crumpled and long-forgotten post-its heaped up in the corners of my mind and tidy the place up a bit. Nobody likes an untidy brain, after all.
So this, my friends, is why I commenced with redecorating my house in the few hectic weeks preceding my son’s arrival. Truthfully, he couldn’t care less what colour the walls of the guest room are. He likely would never notice the chipped paint on the bathroom ceiling or the scratches in the hallway, misplaced nail heads or pitted plaster. But these few mental notes have been written and rewritten enough times that even I remember them well enough to want to take some action.
Note to self: Quit blogging and pick up that paintbrush!
Originally published by motherhendiaries 29 April 2014
feature photo: Shutterstock
© motherhendiaries 2014 all rights reserved
And now, for the scientific bit: