I try be organized. And most of the time I'm
successful at keeping things on track. And yet
like most creative people my mind can wander.
Which explains the reasons that I drive Frank
nuts. Such as not screwing the lid on the olive
oil. Or leaving the random drawer or cabinet
door open in the kitchen. Then of course there
is the kitchen "junk" drawer which is akin to
a bottomless pit. Try as I might I'm not always
able to be organized. Nor do I necessarily have
the wherewithal to connect the dots on all that
I've got going on. Hence my attempts at multi-
tasking are often subject to omission.
Like Hansel and Gretel I leave a trail of debris
as I attempt to do several things at once. Thus
the television is on as the computer is waiting
while half of a room is yet to be dusted as the
water runs in the kitchen sink "rinsing" the days
dishes. To some that might seem like a frenzied
state of affairs but I simply consider it a work
in progress. Ultimately somehow it gets done.
Hopefully sans Frank bumping into something
left undone. However as with any construction
zone, there is a risk of getting injured. Or in my
hubby's case beyond livid. However trust me
when I say I only have the best of intentions.
Many years ago, my mother attributed my
horrific cursive writing to the fact that "his
mind works faster than his hands." While
I've most definitely slowed down since the
days of my youth, I still find myself getting
lost in the translation. That is between what's
going on in my head and what is feasibly
accomplished during the day. Fortunately
by the time the sun has set, I've checked off
most of my list. Or... lost it. Therefore there's
rarely a to-do about gaps in my "honey do."
Well, that is until Frank reminds this repeat
offender of the errors of HIS errant ways.
After decades of trial and error I know myself
quite well. Hence I adhere to a rigid schedule.
A daily grind that insures I do what I have to
do. Said rules of order provide a context that
gives everything it's proper time and place. Or
window of opportunity. The first thing on my
mind is usually "what am I going to make for
dinner?" Post a trip to the fridge and a deep
dive downstairs that's soon decided. With a
plan in mind, I prep, chop, slice, and spice as
the spirit moves me. All in an effort to make
certain dinner is on the table by 7ish. Such
fluidity is my guaranteed recipe for success.
Some of us are simply destined to never follow
the rules. Instead we chart our course via a very
different set of circumstances. What works for
you doesn't necessarily work for us. And vice
versa. So why not do us all a favor and let it be.
After decades Frank has learned to accept me
for who I am. Which means he goes with MY
flow. With the knowledge that I rarely let him
down and have no intention of doing so. In the
end it is what it is. Which at least in our house
is hopefully somewhat fabulous. So why fight
the inevitable. Go with the flow. The best is yet
to come. That is if and when I finally get to it.
