The OCD Post-It Tree

I considered taking a picture of my scheduling madness, but I realized any physical evidence of its existence would only be able to be used against me in an insanity trial. The white board with its mint green scrawls, hand-written lists of daily tasks, and most shameful, the OCD Post-It Tree- 12 sticky notes outlining my life for the next 10 days. I’ve never been very good at being organized. If I met elementary school me now, I’d give her a hug and a planner and explain to her why waiting until the morning of a presentation to tell mom you need to be dressed like Mother Theresa for the day is a bad idea (yes, that really did happen. Ten minutes, one off-white bed sheet, and spool of blue ribbon later, I was sent off to school only to get stabbed by the sewing pins my mother had hastily jabbed into the fabric). Today, I’d have sewn up a habit two weeks in advance, rocking a cross blessed by the Pope.

As my schedule has become more crammed with classes, work, and people, working everything (and everyone) in with time constraints has become a sort of hobby. It’s the daily drudge- getting up early for work, spending time in classes, doing homework and other the sort of inflexible activities that need to be worked into my daily life, plus all the things that I want to fall into place- the gym, phone calls home, late night chats with friends, movie nights with the roommate, dinners out with friends- the things that simply make me happy.

For the next week and a half, I have every moment scheduled, at least loosely, with the places I need to be and the people I need to see.

Looking at the neatly organized least, and crossing off each task as it’s been accomplished makes me wonder one thing… What kind of OCD freak have I become?

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17 Hours Here, 17 Hours There

Due to poor communication skills, I was apparently triple-booked this past weekend. While I had plans to go home to attend a Halloween cystic fibrosis benefit with  SLJ, KT, and the Christmas Elf, my parents decided it would be a fun idea to book a hotel down here and visit me. In the meantime, my sister called before I knew about my parents’ last minute trip and I promised to hang out with her while I was home. And thus began my dilemma.

After a week of late night homework sessions to prepare for my whirlwind weekend, I made the journey to SLJ’s house. In short, the night involved glitter, fist pumping, dog bites, unicorns, butterflies, flooded bathrooms, and onion rings of glory. The next morning, after the sparkles were removed, we fulfilled the greatest quest of our lives- getting muffins from what is perhaps the best bakery in the world. After munching away at confectionary happiness, we gave our hugs and said our goodbyes. I hopped into my car for the world’s shortest visit with my sister. She had big plans for the day, and quickly made that clear as she cuddled up on the couch with her book; my cue to leave.

I made my way back to the island, just in time for my parents to tell me they were stopping by. With a cold vegetarian pizza in hand from my favorite pizza place, they didn’t even need to tell me that they’d missed me. After stocking my cabinets with a dozen cans of veggie and rice soup (nothing else, just soup. These people know me well), they told me about their many adventures through Newport, which included eating at the too-hip-for-them Christie’s, and taking a ghost tour through downtown. They left to change for dinner, and I tidied my room, wondering how it could be such a disaster even when I wasn’t there.

The next day, they left before 1 p.m. to make it to my uncle’s surprise birthday party. I took a walk up at the nature preserve, ran to the store to get candy for the trick-or-treaters, and wondered how it was already 5:30 p.m. when I could’ve sworn the day had just begun.

After my 17 hour trip to see the friends, followed by 17 hour visit with the ‘rents (with a 17 minute interlude with my sister), I was just exhausted. I tossed my laundry in the wash, and went back to wait for the kids.

As trick-or-treaters rang the bell, I realized this was the first time in 22 years I wasn’t trick-or-treating (I trick-or-treated through college to raise money for Unicef. A couple years in high school I didn’t, but KT, SLJ and I always visited each of our parents’ homes, so I’m counting it). I came to the realization that I was getting old…

And as that terrible thought crossed my mind, I realized my phone was currently riding in the icy abyss of the spin cycle.

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