Monday, 9 May 2011
Lists are a fabulous idea. I love lists and am happy in confessing that I would never be able to make it through holiday planning and packing, coursework or present buying without a list.
But there is just something about shopping lists that does not compute itself in my memory. I write them, oh yes, I do write them. Scribbled lists of essential purchases like food, for example, permanently adorn my desk, walls, kitchen and handbag.
Unfortunately they can never be found in the handbag I am actually using when I go to the shop. I am cursed with that common affliction of always forgetting to take the list with me. Why is it so difficult? Write a list, pick it up (key part) go to the shop and buy contents of list.
I wonder whether anyone has yet discovered the gene that will allow me to remember my shopping list. I will await my memory implant any day now.
Labels: Life, Personal Strife
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