List-less in London – The Joys of Getting Busier with Age
Who was it that said they wished they could get to the top of the stairs before they forgot why they wanted to go up there the first place? No, I don’t remember either, but the first three words of that sentence are kind of becoming the leitmotif for my life.
Oh, don’t get me wrong: I love being in my mid-60s. My hair has never been redder or my attitude feistier. Now, I can do sass with industrial strength. As for caring what the world thinks of me, I am waaay ahead of Rhett Butler!
I’m Feeling a Bit List-less
I spend an inordinate amount of time trying to locate stuff. It’s slowly taking over my time and energy.
“Make a list,” my best friend Elle says. “If it ain’t on the list, it ain’t happening.” (She normally inserts a couple of expletives into this. It’s a Canadian thing, apparently.)
Mind, she is no slouch at the… whatever it is I have. Every time we go out we end up playing Hunt the Car in some multi-storey parking lot, because she has forgotten to write down the floor and bay.
Obviously, I make lists. Hey, I’m not that stupid. The problem arises when the list and I find ourselves in different places. Consider the time I went to our local supermarket and realised I’d left my list at home. This was despite the fact that I had left a pink Post-it note on the fridge at home, reminding me to take it.
When I got back, carrying bags of groceries, I found the connection between what I bought and what I was meant to buy was practically non-existent. Sound familiar?
Life Moves So Fast After 60
I am not going gaga, to use a medical term. I’m just getting a little… what’s the word I’m groping for? Yes, that one.
I think it’s because, although I may be getting older, I am also getting busier as the years whizz by. I’m minding my granddaughter, writing books, looking after family members and caring for my cat.
Whoever said life gets simpler the older you get clearly isn’t living my life.
I desperately try to maintain some sort of order and structure. My house keys are kept on the third stair by the front door. Spare car keys in the dresser drawer. My daughter’s keys are on a ledge in the kitchen. My pad and pencil are on the kitchen table by the fridge. I have a place for everything. It’s just that when I go to look for it, it isn’t there, because I’ve used it in a hurry and moved it.
A Place for Everything
Take my mobile phone. I put it down. Somewhere. I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve had to call my mobile phone from the landline – having looked up the number beforehand of course. Thank goodness it’s only a basic one, suitable for the technologically challenged. It’s a “dumb phone’” as my daughter calls it. Goodness knows what would happen if I ever upgraded to one of those iPhone things.
It’s infuriating, but there appears to be nothing I can do to stop it happening. Also it does seem to be happening more and more frequently. Whatever it is. So there you are – sorry, who are you again?
Anyway, you’ll have to excuse me. I need to go and make a quick list of everything I have to do today. That’s if I can recall where I last left my glasses.
So how about you? Is your life getting more and more hectic as you get a little older? Do you have some tried and trusted strategies for keeping your lips above the waterline? Share your story in the comments below.