I have a disorder that prevents me from picking up the telephone. I want to, but just as I am reaching for the receiver I notice that I left 2 piles of unfolded laundry on the living room floor...
I go to fold the laundry and half way through I notice one of Joey's dirty T-shirts discarded in the pile...
I march that T-shirt to the laundry room in a huff, and while I am there I get a whiff of the cat litter box. That's Not My Job Darn It, so I go to add it to the honey-do list...
The list has magically disappeared from the counter, so I have to scrap for a yellow pad in the office, and when I find one I must re-create the list of course.
I want the list to be seen, so I must clear all clutter from the kitchen counter and place it right smack in the middle all alone for emphasis.
While I am admiring the beautiful honey-do list on the otherwise cleared kitchen counter, I remember I was going to make a phone call, but as I am glancing at the phone I realize I need to use the ladies' room, and there are rules, you know... Um... Just a minute...
I go upstairs because my own toilet is the only one I trust to be its cleanest at all times, and while I am climbing the stairs I gripe about this, and when I arrive I notice the toilet paper roll was left empty.
Cool.
I run (read: RUN!) back downstairs and find that the downstairs bath is also paper-free.
Not cool.
I run (RUN!) to the clock and realize that the kids will be home from school in about 30 minutes and grab my keys and (RUN!) out the door to squeeze in an emergency trip to the store...
While I fumble for my keys, I once again notice the phone, but my pressing bladder grants me permission to dismiss it, AND the half folded pile of laundry....
On the way to the store I think about all the stuff I want to say on the phone. I also hope the store restroom is clean and that they have those handy paper thingies to sit on, because my legs are sore from Pilates and I am not in the mood to hover. And, when you call in a few days I will actually remember having been on the phone with you all day and think you are crazy for thinking I didn't call.
'Cept that I am the crazy one. 'Cause I have this disorder that keeps me from picking up the telephone...
HOW DO YOU DO IT, PEOPLE?
Do you have anything you just can't seem to do, no matter how simple it seems?
