It came to me suddenly. I have begun taking my daily “to do” list to the extreme.
You know you’ve crossed the line when the number one item on your ‘to do’ list is “do the ‘to do’ list.” That way I can accomplish one thing, even it’s only the making of the list.
The second warning sign is when you do something on a whim and go back and add it to the list just so you can check it off. I do both of these things on a regular basis and now I learn that such behavior may be an early sign of obsessive compulsive disorder (OCD).
I don’t watch mainstream television any longer although I did watch six seasons of “Murder She Wrote” on my new Roku 3 over the weekend.
In case you’re wondering, that’s about 75 episodes, and writer/sleuth Jessica Fletcher (aka Angela Lansbury) is my new role model.
I’ve begun saying “mer-dah” just like Jessie, and I bought a wicker basket for my bike so I can peddle around my Mississippi version of Cabot Cove. (Note to myself: Befriend the local sheriff so I can help him solve the tough crimes.) I may even begin writing my columns on an old Royal type writer. But that’s a story for another day.
My children continue to make my life exciting, yet highly complicated with high tech Christmas gifts. I had warned them that my learning curve has grown too steep and slippery to climb any longer or any higher. Force feeding me with anything remotely technical is a waste of effort and money. Continue reading
I’m checking out of the fast lane. I’ve said it before but this time I mean it.
I know my readers are tired of hearing about my inability to slow down and pay attention to detail, but today it got way out of hand when I caught myself eating lunch and flossing at the same time.
Nothing really turned out the way I’d planned. My oven-baked sweet potato fries in the special sauce turned out gray for some reason; my Aunt Emma’s new puppy relieved himself to the tune of a half gallon on my kitchen floor; and my youngest son wasn’t here on Christmas for the first time in his or my life.