I came home from school. I emptied the mouse traps (4 dead in 12 hours: both good and freaky). I checked my email and started my laundry. I dozed off as I tried to finish watching an Everlasting Piece (ugh). I woke up an hour into my nap, frantic and convinced that I had to be out someplace, that I had some appointment, somewhere. I couldn’t remember what it was, but I was convinced and so I ran around getting ready in a hurry. I finally had my keys and wallet and sweater and was ready… but I still couldn’t remember anything that I had to do on a Monday night. So I didn’t go.
I don’t think I had anything scheduled. I really don’t. But I still have a nagging thought.
I spoke to my mother on the phone, and told her about this. She paused. “…That’s a little crazy.”
Not the wacky, “oy, silly kid!” kinda crazy. Rather, she had that definite “I’m worried about your sanity, are you okay?” tone of voice.
I had made a similar assessment earlier. I have been existing for years with only my memory. I buy planners and never use them. Previously, I’ve had regular schedules: 4-5 classes with regular hours, regular working hours, church on certain days, etc. Toss in the typical extra appointments, this wasn’t an issue. This semester I’m juggling a regular but unusual class schedule, appointment-based work schedule (Jane calls in and schedules a time, John calls in and schedules another), a few regular work hours, etc. Not very different, except I have more variables to keep track of. I’m usually fine with variables, but I think the extra stressers must have built up and clogged my brilliance.
In conclusion: I have to actually use that planner that is sitting in a box beside my desk.