So I was cleaning my office today (let’s just start this out with a small confession: I have not been accused of being ‘organized’ any time recently) and going through paperwork to decide what to keep and what to pitch and found this:
This was a sheet of paper that I took notes on during a phone call with a client. Just one phone call. Just one client.
I picked this sheet of notes up and had to sit in wonder a little bit about what a psycologist who didn’t know me would say about my mental health.
And then I realized that this sheet of notes kind of represents my life right now. My dad tells me on a regular basis that if I just put into place my systems (Quicken!) and get things organized, everything will run more smoothly.
Yet, I have to admit that this circular and chaotic set of notes mirrors my way of thinking. Jason (the supportive, webmaster, husband and father man in my life) and I regularly disagree about how to get things done because his thought process goes from A….. to B, and mine goes from A….. around to G, M, C, Z and then back around to B.
So I guess it make sense that my notes and my life are a little bit crazy. I have this feeling that if I forced myself to take straight notes that made sense to everyone I wouldn’t be who I am.