You know how they say that most women are multitaskers? I would like to make a case that what appears to be multitasking is actually just being caught up in a series of distractions while trying to accomplish one task.
So yesterday I needed to go to the grocery store. This required a list because no matter how few items I actually need to get at the store, I will always forget something unless I have a list. The list required paper, which I swore had just been lying on the kitchen counter the other day. My small pad of post-it notes were missing. Despite the fact that they were obviously not there, I continued to stare at the counter top because, I swear, they were just there the other day.
After they did not magically materialize, I finally gave in and headed to the office for some more post-its. On the way, I noticed my computer and decided to write yesterday's blog about windmills. This required searching through many windmill photos trying to find just the right one (which I never did. I just had to settle). After getting that all finished up, well, what the heck, why not just check Facebook since I'm already on the computer.
Forty minutes later I am ready to head to the office for the post-it notes. This is not before checking in the kitchen just one more time in case they had decided to return. While there, I see some papers that need shredding lying around, so I figure, since I'm headed to the office anyway, may as well get those in a pile and take them with me.
But suddenly I decide to be hungry. I doubt I even was hungry, but I was in the kitchen, and since there is food so close by, may as well eat some. So I grab a carrot. Since the fridge is so close to the back door, I walk over and look out the back windows at Lewis in the yard, just to make sure he looks like he's doing okay. And of course I love Lewis and love to look at him, so I stare at him for awhile, thoughtfully crunching on my carrot.
Walking back to get the papers to shred in the office, I remember I need to start some laundry, so I take a detour into my closet and get the clothes. I get the washer started and then grab the papers and take them to the office. I shred them. Then I get the post-its, take them into the kitchen, and make a list.
Finally I get all ready to leave for the store but notice some flour or something on the counter next to the stove. While cleaning it off, I look at the little shelf right at my eye level and there, sitting with a pen conveniently located next to them, are the post-it notes.