I am willing to concede, as a practical matter, that I am not an organized individual. Those that know me well just fell over laughing at the understatement. I’m the guy that can lose his glasses, car keys, a coffee mug three seconds after setting the item down. I have a theory regarding this, and my wife has a competing theory. My theory is that when I’m inattentive, which is most of the time when I’m performing mundane tasks like getting ready for work or driving, my brain fails to accurately record where I put my keys or, when driving, that I should have turned right eight miles ago. My sweetie’s theory is that I use everyone else as part of my extended memory. She might be right, since my first instinct is to bellow. This worked better when all the girls lived with us as it gave me extra ‘storage’, plus extra eyeballs when things invariably went missing. Middle daughter, in particular, was helpful here, because she has a bit of an OCD streak.

Since my sweetie has her own things to track, making sure I can find my way to the door isn’t high on her priority list. And the girls are gone.

I’ve compensated by setting up failsafes. My glasses only get put down in specific locations (except when they don’t because . . . squirrel!) Likewise, keys go into one spot. Highly organized, except that every system has a weakness. In this case, the weakness is named Paul. I’m not consistent. I know this, so I set up another system, too. I have four keys to my FJ Cruiser. On my keyring, one inside the vehicle, one hidden outside, one in the safe as a backup when I lose yet another key. It’s not overkill; it’s planning for the inevitable. Ditto. I know where my old glasses are and the prescription is close enough that I can function. 

I recently have adopted a scheduling book and to-do list because tasks were falling through the gaps, especially the unpleasant ones. Very Type A, I’m told. Nope. A fallback-

(Sorry for the interruption. Just realized I had committed to kid-sitting but hadn’t recorded it. Fixed now.)

– position so that I get stuff out of my head. With the exception of appointments, the whole schedule is subject to sudden and rapid changes. Such as, this morning is set aside for revising Splintered Magic for my editor. 

Doesn’t this look like editing? No, you say?

Yeah, busted. I’ll get to the editing, but I’ve been working effectively seven days a week for a month and haven’t written anything in a while. I needed a fix. That doesn’t mean the editing won’t happen. It will, but in the meantime, I’ve managed to dawdle today and send out marketing letters for the book, post on a private group asking (begging!) for reviewers, checked in with my cover designer, written this blog post, answered a half-dozen work related questions, rejected a couple of work proposals, printed a report that I will hand-deliver on my way to work in a couple of hours, done some paperwork for the business, and imbibed two pots of coffee.

The failsafe, though, is set. I know that I’ll get to the editing shortly. It’s on the list, and I can’t afford the time to bump it and still meet the publication schedule. So while I lollygagged this morning, it was productive time. Remember that line about attentiveness? When I work, I work. I don’t check email, social media (I’ve mostly broken that habit, thankfully), book sales, or the latest outrageous news from whatever or whoever. A slew of tasks that eventually needed to get done, have been. That frees me up mentally to take on the editing.

Just as soon as I figure out where I left my coffee cup. Pretty sure I’m wearing out the coffee maker today. Onto editing and pot of coffee three.

Have a great day, yourself!