Organize-Can Say It, Can Spell It, Just Can't Do It!

Why does the saying “When it rains, it pours” have to always happen? I mean, can’t it just drizzle or even just mist? Murphys law, I suppose. I sit at my desk, drowning, and I mean DROWNING in paperwork, nerves frazzled, more emails full of directives from my Supervisor, and as one moment of silence passes I think-holy crap-the rent is due tomorrow. The daycare bills are due tomorrow. The paperwork I should have sent off for my taxes is due tomorrow. My son’s Easter party at school is due tomorrow and I haven’t even bought the Easter eggs or the fruit drinks I am supposed to buy. Ok, breathe, breathe-the world will not end because I get to the post office late. Better late than never, right? (Insert nervous laugh and giggle here).
As a woman, a single woman, who happens to also be a mother of two boys, it is ridiculous to even fathom having my sh@t together. I think of those happy, smiling people who walk around with their dayplanners and labeled drawers and tubs in their pantries and wonder how their mind works. Seriously, is it like there are little people in their heads with bells and buzzers taking shifts throughout the day letting them know it is time to get up, stir their coffee, pay their bills, wipe their rears, rinse wash and repeat?
Take Dayplanners for instance. Do you have ANY IDEA how many of those things I have purchased over the years? I couldn’t even count them if I tried. Every once in a while I have this lightbulb moment when I think “Today is the day I am going to get it together and be organized”. Wrong. Here’s the thing-the way my mind works, it is added stress to own a dayplanner. I swear I would get up in the morning, and IF I remembered to check the dayplanner to see what was on the “agenda” for the day (mostly blank pages, mind you, because you have to remember to write things in there), but quickly realize I don’t know where I put the thing. So, ok, the dayplanner is out because I don’t remember where I put it and it looks like any other notebook.
Next best thing-I get a Palm Pilot. Yes! That’s what I need-it is a neat little gadget and it will keep my interest! I will be constantly fiddling with the thing, so I will always put stuff in it, always be checking it, so I am always on schedule, right?!? Wrong. Fail. First of all, the directions were not written for the electronically handicapped people such as myself, and once I figure it out and start using it I always end up back at the same point-“Now where did I put the stupid thing?”
Organization eludes me. Yes, I know my stress level could be a LITTLE lower could I have a place for everything and everything in its place-somehow, no matter how hard I try, it just doesn't happen. Parenting two strong willed boys by myself?-Bring it on. Tell me where that magazine that had that picture of that boy who did something somewhere? ...um, on the kitchen counter-wait, no-on the dresser in my room-yeah, I have no idea.
I am slowly starting to realize, at 31 years old, this is just the way I am and it’s not going to get any better. I will be 95 years old in the nursing home and lose my dentures at the bridge table and not even notice it until I am having to gum my bread in the dining hall. Oh how I wish I had my act together and could handle more than one thing at a time. Oh well, time to face the music. It’s just not me. Period.