I Have Notebooks That Have Accompanying Notebooks
Also, hold on a second, I need to note this in my agenda.
I don’t understand how someone who so totally has her shit together on paper can be so fucking far from having her shit together in real life. It’s like I’m my own damned irresponsible ass doppelganger, and I’m constantly trying to fuck my life up for the me that has to follow the me I am today.
I notate everything. I am not disorganized. I have basically a Staples in my home, and I’m doing all of the things I should be doing to stay on top of things. To adequately adult.
But, at the end of the day, I still don’t have a fucking clue. I just spent 2 hours looking through an agenda trying to find where I noted a dog’s flea treatment. You know, so I don’t poison the damned dog. Kind of important.
After I have worked myself into tears, I remembered I had to get it next day from Chewy. Which is way better with records that I am, apparently. Past Orders. Voifuckingla.
It’s like I hate myself. I have literally jotted down everything ever. Except the shit I need to know. I really need to work on being the adult, because I’m pretty much the responsible party here.
That’s a really frightening thought, actually. I need an adultier adult to come and adult here, please.
Adultier adulting skills available to share upon request - plus coffee!