I want to confess that I am a failed multitasker. But, that said I still end up doing too many things at once anyway.
I was really pissed off at the TODAY Show the other morning. There was a young perky woman who had turned her OCD into a business. She was talking about how to stay organized in every part of your life.
I didn’t catch her name because I was cleaning out my Tupperware cabinet and her “blah blah blah” was in the background. As I began to peel the scotch-taped Christmas cards off the wall now that it’s April, I heard her say “put everything away at the very moment you interface with it — like open the letter and then file it.”
“F***ck you Miss Smarty Pants,” I blurted.
There’s no question that staying organized in one’s home has some spillover to life outside, and I guess the opposite would be true as well.
I am a huge advocate of mindfulness and remind myself several times a day to practice it. But then, life just happens. Like — it’s my turn at “Word With Friends” or I need to check the weather again, or Instagram that gorgeous daffodil that appeared from nowhere. And, this kind of “insta-stuff” gets me off track and has earned me my nickname “LUCY.”
The funny thing is my first husband nicknamed me Lucy and my Bill has also adopted it. So, I guess it must be accurate.
But these days I have been way more on top of my game – very un-Lucylike – mindful, methodical and efficient. I’ve been getting a ton done thanks to help from Marie Kondo (my declutter guru). But, this past weekend I had a relapse.
After a full weekend of family fun, our siblings and kids left our vacation house on Martha’s Vineyard. My husband went back to work as well, and I had 24 hours to myself. I had the most delightful quiet rainy day – working and reading and resting and organizing.
Knowing I had to catch a 10:45 ferry the next morning, I had everything in its place for a seamless departure. I figured I’d have just enough time to join my friends for an 8 am doubles game if I planned carefully.
I packed up the house, walked my doggy Jazz and put a water bowl in the car. She would have to wait with all my stuff at the tennis center as we would drive directly to the ferry after the game. It was a cool 45 degrees and she had her blanky. No worries.
Just as I was pulling into the tennis center, the phone rang.
“Hi Fran, glad you called – just to forewarn you, I’m rushing a bit as I have a tennis game in 5 minutes. Yes, i’m excited about our plans tomorrow – let’s figure out a time to meet and decide who is driving to the show.”
After a little catching up, and then a few back and forths on our plans, I was feeling pressed to get into the tennis center. I parked, opened the window a tad for Jazz, and started walking into the center still deep in conversation.
And before I could say goodbye, Fran got another call and put me on hold, so I held on. Opening the front door, I was surprised to see a little doggy wagging its tail.
“I love the Vineyard,” I thought to myself. “How cool that they let dogs hang out at the tennis center.”
I’m going to ask if my Jazz can come in here and hang out while I play, once I get off the call.
The instant Fran jumped back on and started apologizing for taking another call, I had to interrupt her as Molly, my yoga teacher who I hadn’t seen for 6 months, was sitting in the waiting area. She greeted me with a big hello and I gave her a huge hug, with my phone still in hand. I have no idea why we hadn’t hung up at that moment but Fran must have been busying herself at her desk because she didn’t seem to mind – or never said, “I gotta go.”
I was so excited to see Molly. She asked me if I was coming to her class, which was starting in 30 minutes.
“Oh I can’t, I wish I could – I’ve missed your classes. Actually, I’m here to play tennis.” I patted the adorable little doggy on her lap.
“Wow two dogs here – this is fantastic,” I thought.
“Fran, I hope we are all set with our plans, I’m so sorry there is so much chaos going on as you can hear.” We both laughed at our crazy conversation interruptus and said goodbye.
Molly and I chatted for awhile and then she started for the door, “I’ve got to go Felice, I’ll be late for my class.”
“Me too, I said, I’m going to get my dog from the car, I had no idea they let dogs in the tennis center – this is so cool.”
‘Tennis center? This isn’t the tennis center,” she was laughing.
“WHAT!” I look around and began to take it all in and started laughing too. “This isn’t the tennis center – Where am I?”
“You’re at the vet” she was in a full body laugh at this point. “The tennis center is over there – right next door.”
I looked over across the dirt road and there it was. I must have been completely absorbed with my phone call and just walked into the wrong building.
Molly and I were both laughing hysterically at this point.
“I can’t believe it – the whole time I thought I was at the tennis center and was so excited they allowed dogs.”
And then Molly looked at me in that non-judgmental yoga way and gave me a hug. “You must have needed to see me – that’s why you came in here.