Number Three.

I have come up with a list. A constant list that follows me around, of which I update as often as I can; of what I need to do or be thinking of doing at all times. Writing this, for example, was number three on my list today, and lucky it was or else it could very well not have happened. And it can be anything, even simply calling someone back or picking up Feta cheese. I've got it worked out so well that it literally follows me around between all the electronic devices that tie my life, and generally anybody's life these day, together. From computer to phone to laptop to computer, everything says the same thing. I've found that this is the only real way of achieving anything, or getting the things done that need to get done in the average household of five, because being on a train two hours a day limits my time and time is what it's all about. And the constant blur that follows me round day and night doesn't help things any either.

It started the first week I started my new job. I was slightly breathless, always out of time, and struggling to remember the hundreds of things I needed to organise, or at least attempt to help organise, to make the move. I don't know what it was about that week, but it felt like a cloud was constantly in front of me. There was a lot of changes going on, and I was living in a time when the changes in my world hadn't quite caught up to me - like in the Langoliers but without the flying hairy balls with teeth. It reminds me of a similar feeling when I returned to work after Little Mango 3 was born and our trilogy was complete. It was like I was always playing catch up, and struggling to stay in the moment. It's a bit hard to explain. It's kind of like going on a holiday. You become a completely different person on holiday, for two weeks you can actually leave your normal self behind and go on your merry way. And then after a time when it seems like so much has happened, and you feel like you've changed in some small or monumental way, you come back to your house – and everything normal seems just a bit strange. That's generally how I feel about 8pm every night. When everything's done and set, my little mangos are all safe and sound in bed, the kitchen and general order of the house looks good and there's a silence about the house – I suddenly am aware of being home again. CLEAR! Very strange.

So that at this time, when I'm back in my body again, it's time to get on to that other stuff. And that's where the list comes in. And how important it has proved to be. If I just relied on my brain, I would begin to get one of the bills paid, move on to downloading part 5 of 7 of the audiobook I'm listening to (a fine choice, and good value considering it's taken almost a month to read) on to the iDevice, and then half way through that I'd remember that I wanted to tape a show, at which point I'd start making lunches and get to the end of all this with no bills paid, the show taped on the wrong channel and peanut butter smoothed over the lid of a tupperware container. Oh well, close enough. I'm sure we've probably been through this type of thing before in one of my earlier posts. I don't know if I've told you but I'm having trouble remembering things. And I think I've just figured out how to fix it. With The List. And as stupid as it sounds, although I sound like one of those motivational speakers (you know the ones, after a life as a drunk, homeless prostitute dwarf, they finally found the motivation to become speakers), I actually think it's the only way I can move forward. At the moment it reads a little like this:

Number 1 – Edit friend's wedding video
Number 2 – Pay electricity bill
Number 3 – Write in blog
Number 4 – Get Little Mango 1 riding a bike for God's sake, it's been far too long you hopeless  
                     hopeless excuse for a father (it's important for this list to be motivating, like a drill
                     sargeant.)
Number 5 – Update list.

And so on. I have this with me all the time, constantly reminding me what to do – it would be like what people without kids use their short term memory for (I can still remember those days because all my memories before I had kids are still in tact – I just lost the ability to make new ones). Besides, most of the devices I have giving me the info have better processing speeds than me at the moment, so why shouldn't they work for me? It's put them to much better use than just Angry Birds, as needy as that  game is. I know, it sounds a bit like I'm letting computers run my life, but at least I'm still in control of them; I'm just turning them into a RAID drive for my brain. Although I would much prefer if I could delegate tasks to the machine that I don't think I really need, like receiving pain signals, or the desire to do exercise (although if it's Windows in charge of that particular problem it may stop me from moving altogether) but I've got to live with what I've got. And at the moment it's the list. Telling me to act. Telling me to socialise. Telling me to work. Telling me to help. Right now, telling me to move on to number four. And I'm pretty sure I told it to tell me to do that.