So anyway, I was thinking about that conversation some more. I was thinking about how I had once thought that one day it would be fun to write a memoir... I still think I would like to, but because of that conversation, I realized I should wait until I'm old to do so. But then I thought, "What if I die in my twenties? I will never have had the chance to write a memoir." So there's that. But on the other hand, if I write one sooner because I might die, I might live to be really old and it will be rather lame to have written a memoir so early in life.
I decided that if I live to be sixty, I will write a memoir. That's not really super old, but who knows what could happen after that point. I don't mean to say that all sixty year olds are super old and should be concerned about the ticking time bombs that are their bodies, but I'm pretty sure that my body is like a dormant volcano. I have seen what it is capable of, and I will tell you, my friends, it isn't pretty.
Anyway. Me being sixty, now there's a funny thought! That would take 35 more years of me staying alive. I don't know, guys... I have my doubts. In case I don't get there, or in case I forget, here's a little story from today at work. I call it:
"Working with a brain that doesn't work (the way you want it to)."
I don't know how many times I have set out to do a task and have completed it from start to finish without getting sidetracked or forgetting about it, or starting something else in the midst of it. At work, I have a nice chunk of office time in the mornings, before my intern and I leave to go set up for camp and then pick up the kids. This is my least favourite part of the day, because it requires sitting at a desk and doing tasks; reading/responding to emails, planning... other things that don't involve playing outside and hanging out with kids.
We also have chores in the office. My chore, as per my request, is collecting and taking out the garbage and recycling. I go around to everyone's desk and take their discarded paper and old coffee cups... and either take it to the big trash bin outside, or if it is recycling, to our shed. We have too much recycling to just leave out for the garbage trucks to take, apparently; so we pile it in a shed in the backyard until it builds up so much that you can't use the shed for anything else (my bicycle literally got buried in paper and cardboard this summer). And then I get to load it in the van and take it to the recycling depot. It's pretty fun actually.
Anyway. I hadn't done my chore in a while (we're supposed to do it once a week), so I took a break from what I was working on to go collect the recycling. I gathered everything from the main office where most of us work, and then went into the administrator's office, saying "Bring out 'cher dead!" which was received by a most delighted and genuine laugh (this happens every single time I take the recycling from her).
I was done gathering the recycling, so I went to the back door (which is in the kitchen) to unlock it and go outside to the shed. But first, I got my lunch and put it in the microwave, so that when I got back inside from putting the recycling in the shed, my food would be heated up for me. When I got back inside I remembered that I hadn't done the other part of my chore - taking out the garbage. So I got a big bag and started going around dumping the contents of everyone's garbage cans into the big bag. Like with the recycling, I started in the main office, and then went in the direction of the administrator's office. On the way there, I noticed in the hallway two large boxes of mail.
The church and our office are on the same property (we are tenants of the church), so mail for them gets delivered to our door, and I get to bring it over with me when I set up for camp. I had actually noticed the boxes a couple times already, but was not wanting to bother with them, so I figured I should put them by my desk so I remember to take them next door with me when I set up for camp. The desk behind mine is vacant at the moment, and there is a short bookshelf beside it, so I thought the bookshelf would be a good place to put the boxes for the time being. But then I noticed the book shelf was a little unorganized and full of old junk no one was using, so I started sorting that out... and then ended up going through the whole desk while I was at it. At some point during this process I realized my food was still sitting in the microwave, so I got that and started eating it.
Here is where I don't really know what all went on and things are a little bit muddled in my mind... but I was sitting at my desk eating, and I was getting to the end of my bowl of food, and it was becoming clear that I was going to need a spoon to do this thing right. So I got up to get a spoon. On the way to the kitchen, I saw the big bag of garbage that I had left in the middle of the hallway earlier, when I noticed the boxes of mail (I must have passed that big bag of garbage at least once already, when retrieving my forgotten food from the microwave.). So I picked that up and finished gathering the trash from the administrator's office, and took the bag outside to the bin. When I came inside, I saw my dirty tupperware that I brought my lunch in, sitting by the sink. So naturally, I washed that, as well as any surrounding dishes, cleaned the sink, and wiped the counter. Feeling accomplished, I sat back down at my desk.
...Oh yeah. I was going to get a spoon and finish my food. When I went back into the kitchen to get my food, it was nowhere in sight. Perplexed, I retraced my steps back to my desk. On the way back, I saw my bowl sitting up high on a filing cabinet behind a stack of paper. Right where I had left it when I noticed the big bag of garbage in the hallway. A perfectly normal place to leave one's lunch, I'd say.
I ate the rest of my lunch, with a spoon, and then thought through how I was going to prioritize the rest of my tasks with the remaining 45 minutes I had left in the office.
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