Sunday, February 16, 2014

Remind me...

If you look at the calendar notes on my cell phone, you might be puzzled. Truthfully, so am I most of the time. Examples, you ask (say the voices in my head)? Happy to oblige.

Apr 29: Mon Song

May 31: Car!!!

June 30: Seasonal, linens, crafts, fabric

Aug 2: Magnesium

Oct. 5: Yellow Brick Road Lyrics

Raise your hand if you make notes like these somewhere - anywhere - and then can't recall their significance.

I knew there were kindred spirits out there.

I blame my lack of memory (that would be short-term, as in... wait -- what was I saying?) partially on chemo's effect of fast-forwarding menopause and throwing me full thrust into PSM (pre-senior moments) beginning in my late 40s.

The rest I blame on my own lack of detail.

What is a Mon Song and why did I find it necessary to give it a particular date?

The car? What about the car? Am I supposed to drop one off to be repaired or buy one? I like the second option better, but I'm sure my bank account would find that hysterical. And what is this thing I have about exclamation points???

Seasonal linens, crafts, fabric. First of all, for which season? Summer, since it's dated June 30? And have I mentioned how completely uncrafty I happen to be (see last May 25th's post for the sordid details)? This whole entry sounds masochistic to me.

Some are easy, like the reminder to buy magnesium (because, really - what else would that mean?). Not that I remembered to do so after my calendar alarm went off, because - well, here's the other thing about calendar reminders on your phone. They are never, ever conveniently timed.

So I'm driving down the road and my phone does this chimey thing that means I have a calendar reminder. I don't know about you but my habit is to glance at the note (when it's safe to do so), think to myself, "Good thing I put a reminder on my phone about that," turn it off - and forget it. Why? Because I set the dang thing for a time when I can not just drop everything and follow directions.

Even when I think I've set it for a convenient time, it usually isn't. A 6 a.m. alarm reminding me to grab my gym bag so I have it after work? Great idea. Except I'm usually trying to convince my hair to have a normal shape, applying minimal makeup on a high maintenance palate, and figuring out what to wear that doesn't have obvious stains at that hour of the morning. By the time I stumble into the kitchen and guzzle my first mug of coffee, I don't even remember that I belong to a gym.

The reminder about the Yellow Brick Road Lyrics gets repeated every few months, more or less whenever I hear the song on the radio and once again have to admit that Elton John is probably not singing "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, where the socks south avenue trowel." I mean, it sounds good... but I have my doubts. Unfortunately, it never seems to be at a time when I can simply take advantage of the $743 a month we pay for accessing the internet on our smarter-than-you phones.

I guess I'm complicating my own life with these inconvenient, mystery reminders. It's probably time to try another tactic which I will tackle as soon as I have a chance.

Let me just send myself a calendar reminder about it for tomorrow at 6 a.m.

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