Forget It

Last night I ran across an article on how to be more organized. I scanned it for a miracle cure. Instead it had suggestions like: synchronize the items on your grocery list with the layout of the grocery store. Then staple your coupons to the list in the order that you will need them.

Even if I had the patience to “synchronize” anything, I would lose the list and the coupons before I got to the store. I am the First Lady of Forgetfulness. The Queen of Disorganization.

My sister-in-law bought me a calendar and stuck it to my refrigerator. “Write
it down,” she advised. “Then you’ll remember.” So I covered the calendar with
dates and appointments and it does help…when I don’t forget to look at it.

I’ve been known to drop off my friend Dorothy (she doesn’t drive) at the grocery
while I do errands and not think of her again until after I’m back home. I forget
birthdays, so I send cards either weeks ahead (so I won’t forget) or weeks after
(because I did forget).

I have even forgotten my own son. One night his father came home without him and I suddenly remembered that I was supposed to have picked him up after school. I jumped in the van and drove like a maniac, forgetting the speed limit (a state trooper reminded me), and by the time I arrived, my child and his teacher were ordering out for pizza.

Ironically, while I can’t remember more than three items I need from the grocery, I can still sing the song lyrics to tunes that were popular during the ’70s. It’s the short-term memory that gives me problems and I’m not the only one. A good friend of mine is a teacher. One day her daughter became ill at school and needed to go home. My friend arranged for someone to watch her class, told her daughter to wait while she got the car, and then drove off and left her daughter standing in the parking lot!

Maybe pharmaceutical companies will come up with a pill for forgetfulness. But if they do, I’ll never remember to take it.