Post-it NOT

Hi, I’m Susie and I am a Post-It abuser.
Actually, I started out as a Post-It addict.

The relationship started so innocently, fueled by my dream of an organized life, where I would always remember what I needed to do, where I needed to go, whom I needed to call.  You know what it’s like to have a dream, right? That dream led me straight to the office supply store and down that long, dark road. Curse you, Staples…

In the beginning, those little Post-Its were perfect. One note for anything to remember, placed along the edge of my monitor. Once the thing was done or happened or no longer mattered, I’d toss the note. Dream fulfilled!

But like any addiction, the dream didn’t last. That’s when the relationship got abusive.

A combination of piss-poor penmanship and cryptic messages resulted in notes that were meaningless at best. I couldn’t read my own gibberish – and when I could, I never fucking understood it. Which meant that things were not being remembered, calls were not being made, and nothing was getting done.  I felt powerless. I’d sit there, staring endlessly hoping that one day I’d have an epiphany and suddenly decipher them like a mad scientist who’s discovered the primer to a complex code. Sadly, this has yet to happen.

The oddest of these notes are a peek into the mind of a lunatic: ME. Think I’m exaggerating? See for yourself:

  • Status of Call Last Week. Which call?  Which week???
  • 10:30 Sunday. Alas, I never noted which Sunday, or exactly what would happen at 10:30 on whichever Sunday it was.  So just about every Sunday, I note (sorry… bad pun) when 10:30 passes, hoping that whatever was supposed to happen has already occurred without incident, or that something will eventually happen some Sunday to remind me of it.
  • Call Jim. Jim WHO? I know about a dozen Jim’s. I’ve called each of them. None of them could help me figure out whether they were the one to call or even why they’d need to be called.
  • Birthday Card. This was probably a reminder to pick up a card for my mother a few months ago, which… umm… I’m pretty sure I did. But I keep it around to remind myself to pick up any other birthday cards I may need.
  • Closed 8/18 – 8/21. I have no idea what will be closed, why they will be closed, why this information was (or is) important, or what will happen if I don’t do what I can’t remember needs to be done before whatever this place is closes.
  • BJ2. I’ve even Googled this one, but it didn’t help.  I have absolutely no clue what it means.  This note’s destined for the trash can.

After recently reviewing these notes, I resolved to find a better system.  But apparently I never figured out how, because the next morning I discovered a new note on my monitor that stated, ‘better system.’  For the longest time, I couldn’t figure out why I thought I needed a new computer – unless it was to purchase a larger monitor, since my collection of notes was now encroaching the screen, making it difficult for me to see my work.

I found myself further pondering the mysteries of these notes last week during a phone conversation with a friend.  When I told her of my quandary, she giggled. “You should write an article about this,” she said. “It’s pretty funny.”

To her, maybe…

Before I hung up, she asked me to send her a copy of the article when it was finished.  So… uh… I made a note. The following week, I discovered another note on the monitor and had no idea why I wrote it.  It simply said, ‘send article.’

Which article?  Send it where?
I need a support group.

“Hi, I’m Susie, and I’m a Post-It abuser…”