Journal

When my dad passed away in March, he left behind a whole bunch of post-its. Parkinsons disease tends to affect levels of dopamine in the brain, which in turn generates various impulsive and compulsive behaviors as to ease anxiety.

Having enough post-its was a big thing for Dad, to the point where he accumulated more than he’d ever actually need at the late stage of his life. Mum passed them on to me, on the logic that I’d be most likely to need them over the day-to-day course of life.

Reader, I now have a metric buttload of Post-Its. In fact, it’s possible I’m set for the next decade of my life.

And it turns out I don’t use them anywhere near as often as I thought.

Everything on my reminder board focuses on dates back in November, and even then I lost track of half the things I needed reminding of in the back half of the month.

It’s been four and a half weeks since I last worked on fiction projects. My brain is inciting a rebellion against this focus on one project until it’s finished approach I’ve been trialing.

There are currently 38 unread emails sitting in my inbox, a component part of 86 emails left in the inbox overall. The oldest dates back to September 12th and I barely remember September at this point.

My comfort zone is keeping the unread email under 10, and not leaving things in the inbox at all.

The drinks coaster on my desk is starting to feel appropriate.