Looking in the refrigerator for a lemon, I was out of luck. Convinced I had just bought one,
I discovered that I had only put it on my list. That’s the thing about lists: they fool me into thinking I’ve already done what I only wrote down.
Was it always like this? I can’t remember and it’s not on my list. Make that plural: LISTS. The to-do list, to-buy list, to-call list. And the long-term goals list which gets relocated to the bottom of the pile every week.
Gathering up my lists for this essay, I notice one with only place names: Target, Post Office, Garden Goods, Rare Bird. What do I need at these various locations? I haven’t a clue and it’s not on the list. You see my problem. Saving me from myself becomes an ever more complicated task.
I could despair, but as I review these scraps of paper, I am reassured. These are scraps of paper, after all. This is a primitive technology that I can master with a pencil. No apps or updates required.
Onion, bananas, bread, calcium, lemon. Got it.
