Listless and lost

The phone rang, bringing a most unwelcomed push to reality. I’d been reading a book on Tibet and was happily absorbed in life over there. The phone rang again, and seemed louder, angrier. I momentarily thought about my choices– ignoring it, smashing it, or answering it. On the fourth ring I put down my book and answered. I even managed to sound cheery. I think.
The caller was a friend apologizing for a delayed response to a request I’d made earlier. “I wrote your information on a sugar packet while we were talking, and then I lost it. But it turned up today so now I can reply.” I couldn’t help giggling. How many times have I desperately written something I needed to remember on shards of napkins or scraps of paper? Um, think in the zillions. It’s pretty amazing how much you can write on a Trident gum wrapper, and it smells nice too.
As we get older, I like to believe our minds are filled to the brink with important and fascinating information. That is why we forget simple things. How can “please get a gallon of milk on your way home” compete with Einstein’s Theory of Relativity learned* in the tenth grade? It can’t. See? It’s not our fault that we lose objects or need reminding. We’re too smart for our own good. That is why the concept of using lists was born. I can write real pretty lists. Detailed. Concise. Colorful. What I haven’t quite figured out is how to dull the pain of realizing the list is at home when I’m at the grocery store. What the heck. Sometimes I bring home a gallon of lemonade instead of milk. What’s important is that I remembered it was a gallon of something. Einstein wasn’t the only one who made discoveries. Lemonade on cereal isn’t half bad.
* Learned is used only loosely. It was in a book we were supposed to read.