Forgetting stuff makes me feel frazzled and I did that very thing just yesterday. On Sunday last summer's Manny (Speedy) came by to ask a favor--could I write him a letter of recommendation for college scholarships? Of course! I took down all the pertinent information and slapped that post-it note on my pile.
And buried it.
I'd told him I'd have the letter ready Thursday, a day before he needed it.
My week has been full of ball schedules, every interruption conceivable thrown at a dinner schedule, unscheduled meetings, manuscript editing, weather delays/disruptions, homework hassles and a robin in a pear tree. (Partridges don't live in Wisconsin, but I really do have a robin in one of our pear trees.) So when, at 7:00, after I barely fed children, cajoled and threatened them through most of their homework, completed a Very Important Meeting, had to skip karate because of a general lack of cooperation, managed to make brownies without adequate cocoa powder (chocolate chips, people) and did all the other various necessary tasks that women do in the evening while their husbands sit their asses in armchairs while reading newspapers/watching TV/doing sudoku/not acting particularly helpful or useful (bitter? Moi?), you can imagine how thrilled I felt when Mr. G said, "Mom! Somebody's here!"
"What do you mean?" I glanced at the calendar--nothing was scheduled except for the karate class we missed and the meeting I'd wrapped up 2 hours ago.
"There's a car coming down our driveway!"
Sure enough, I looked out and saw the lights and went to the door. There stood Speedy and I gasped. His letter! I'd totally forgotten about it. My palms became clammy, my heart raced, my skin flushed and I considered hiding in a closet until he left. Instead I behaved like a woman, opened the door and began apologizing. Happily, Manny needed something besides his letter and I was able to proofread his application essay and make some helpful suggestions. My next stop this morning is Happyland High where I'll hand deliver that promised letter of recommendation.
It doesn't do a girl a lick of good to write stuff down if she's going to hide the note. Duh.
Frazzled indeed. What I need is a Fairy Godmother to interfere, remind me of what's important and rearrange my schedule for me--kind of like Nic has in Austentatious. Only Nic's Fairy Godmother is Jane Austen. Which turns out to be as awesome as it sounds. Can you imagine having Jane Austen sorting through the bits and bobs of your life? Arranging your relationship status, pointing you in the right direction?
This book is the running theme all week here at Chez Green Girl. I'm giving away a copy of
Austentatious to one lucky winner. Entering my Frazzled Contest is easy--each comment in the comment box is an entry to win. That's all. I'll pick a lucky winner Monday and mail them a copy of Austentatious. It's that easy and that awesome.
Spill it, reader. If Jane Austen were your personal Fairy Godmother, what would you ask her to fix in your life right now?
P.S. I have to add that when I came out of Happyland High, I realized I locked my keys in the Momvan. This week is ALMOST over, right???
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