Behinder and behinder – July 9, 2020

Someone is trying to fool me into believing if there’s a ‘schedule of events’ posted somewhere – on the fridge, on the side of my computer screen, or maybe on a yellow pad chained to my wrist – It might be possible for more to be accomplished in the span of a day. Not likely. Been working on that for about a year now. Tried all kinds of variations. Nothing seems to do the trick.

Might be ADD.  You know, the “Look!  There’s a squirrel!” thing.  In fairness, most of the interruptions that give credence to the “Life’s Like That” collection, “My Life in Five Minute Segments” are out of my control.  Short of ignoring them, that is.  When some things come up, a man just doesn’t have a choice. 

When you hear a “thump!” on the back deck it has to be investigated.  You know, could be an ocean liner ran into the deck here in land-locked U. S. of A.  Might have to mount rescue efforts. Or at least notify the Coast Guard.   

Maybe that herd of elephants decided the dill patch was ready for harvest.  Can’t have that.  The Boss is looking to have a nice jar of dill seeds to get us through the winter.

Maybe that dad-blamed rabbit chased the neighbor’s German Shepherd from his front yard, through the invisible fence, and smack into the steps leading up to the deck.  That Shepherd is smart enough he recognizes the rabbit considers the deck off-limits; won’t go up the steps. If the Shepherd could make it there, he’d be safe.  Unless the squirrels come out in teams to plant walnuts in the hanging baskets.  So far as I know though, the Shepherd fears the squirrels less than that rabbit.  Don’t know as I agree with his assessment.

There is no “front” deck by the way.  Somehow, “out on the deck” paints a picture of my house being itself an ocean liner.  Which it’s not.  When I get done eating all these apples, I’m going to look into that.  There must be some logical explanation that’s the way it always comes out.  Other than my odd speech habits.

Scheduled daily events: I dutifully write down what I intend to get accomplished during the day.  To keep me focused.  Cross items off when they’re dispatched.  Answering my phone (not on the list) or the front door (also not on the list) doesn’t seem like much.  Problem is, finished with any interruption, it takes at minimum thirty minutes to get back to where I was when the phone rang, or the ChemGrass truck pulled up out front. 

An aside here bordering on “rant.”  Ten years ago, ChemGrass sent the same man to treat my lawn every time it was necessary.  We even knew each other’s names.  We’d actually chat about this and that related to my lawn, and how his son was doing in Little League. Since then, ChemGrass seems to be having a bit of a staffing problem.  Every trip sees a different technician triple checking that he has the right address.  It is imperative I accompany him as he sprays to make sure he understands the spots holding edibles – herbs and hardy tomatoes, eggplant, and peppers – that they are not deemed weeds and, as a customer courtesy, eradicated.  Chuckle if you will, but I’ve stood on the stone barriers isolating my edible patches, puffed-up my chest to be as visible as possible, and still had to throw rocks at the technician to remind him those round red things are not dandelions.  I mean they’re city boys, barely trained enough to discern Fescue from crabgrass.

Back to the list. It is a source of immense delight crossing an item off.  It’s done with a flourish, and if I could afford one, I’d hire a band to play something patriotic.  Invariably, at day’s end, there are items left over.  No problem.  They move to the next page to head the list for tomorrow.  Naturally, there’s a little arbitration over priority.  Doesn’t always work though, for example moving “Dentist’s Appointment – 10 AM” down the list because, well ten AM is ten AM.  Can’t do ten AM at two in the afternoon.  I could.  Not sure the dentist’s office would handle it well.

The distressing thing is that I’ve had to get bigger notepads.  I’m at legal-size now.  The lists never shrink, always grow.  When your list is enumerated in triple digits, that’s a sure sign, something you expected to happen, isn’t.

Until I come upon a better method, I’m gonna stick with the lists.  Have noticed an unusual thing.  Now and again, an item gets crossed-off not because it’s done but as a result of attrition.  Difficult to replace the doorsill chrome on the passenger side of the pickup when you sold the pickup three weeks ago.  That that remained on the list tells you how many items there are and how much time and attention I allow for transferring today’s list open items to tomorrow’s list.

Don’t see as there is another option right now.  If something does show, some magic method reveals itself, I’ll let you know.  Let me add that to my list.  Lemme see, where’s my yellow pad?

Published by spwilcen

Retired career IT software engineer, or as we were called in the old days, programmer, it's time to empty my file cabinet of all the "creative" writing accumulated over the years - toss most of it, salvage and publish what is worthwhile.

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