In the cluttered mind of a middle-aged woman, many thoughts can run at the same time. This can be, at once, both productive AND counter-productive, a perfect storm of mental collisions that often result in the syndrome, "Why did I come in here?" I have this syndrome frequently and feel well-qualified to speak on the issue.
Just the other day, when I was doing a thorough condo-cleaning (this happens once in a blue moon), the process went something like this:
Deciding to start with the bathroom in the lower level, I went downstairs to gather up the towels. On the way down, I realized that I should think about how many towels needed washing in the condo, because it would take more than one load. I turned around and headed back up the stairs to collect all the towels from the three bathrooms. Moving into the master bath, I remembered that I wanted to dust those floors, but first, I'd have to take the three throw-rugs out to be shaken. I took the three throw rugs outside, gave them a good shaking and laid them over the stair railing. I went into the laundry room to get the floor duster (to use in the master-bath area), saw the washing machine and remembered that I was supposed to be washing towels. At this point, I did actually gather up all the towels and get a load started. In the meantime, I noticed that the hardwood flooring in the upper level was really dusty. I started to work on that, but realized that there were a lot of food particles that needed sweeping first, so I returned to the laundry room to fetch the broom and dustpan. When I reached for the dust pan, I noticed that the duct tape holding my old, favorite dust pan together was beginning to fail so I went down to SO's workspace to get the duct tape. As I walked past the lower-level bathroom, I spied the basket of tub toys from the grandchildren's visit and thought I should put it away. I did that and continued on to get the duct tape, which hangs above the shelf where the bottled water is stored. Seeing the bottled water reminded me that I had been meaning to bring up more bottled water from the lower-level storage area to the first floor storage area. I put as many bottles of water in my arms as I could carry and, as I turned to leave the basement storage area, arms full, I spied the duct tape, which was the last reason I had gone downstairs. Realizing I could not grab one more item, I headed upstairs, arms full, to the closet where the bottled water is kept. I placed the water bottles in their 'spot', but noticed the container of vacuum sweeper bags and remembered that the upright vacuum sweeper needed a new bag........................
Do you see where this is going?
Later - about three hours later - I did finish cleaning the lower-level bathroom. As I was closing the door, I laughed at myself because I could remember the many 'detours' I had taken during the course of the day and marveled at how I could get anything done while suffering from the 'Why-did-I-come-here? syndrome'. I know this is a common affliction among women because we have the courage to say so. I suspect that it afflicts men, as well, but they are reluctant to admit it.
As we approach a new decade, I challenge all who read this blog to acknowledge and face our syndromes.......head on, with courage, grace and dignity. Now, which syndrome was it that I just wrote about??????????????????
Ancora imparo
