The continuing project of cleaning out the garage is generating enough books and old magazines to be sold (I've kept all my copies of BBC Music, but I never look at them again, so: out) that it was time for another visit to Half Price Books to sell a batch. I like Half Price because they'll buy everything, so I don't have to bother about disposing of any residue. Not for much money, true, but they act as if they care about what they buy and will find an appropriate place for it all, and that matters more to me than maximizing gain, since I'm selling this stuff to trim my storage, not to liquidate assets.
The problem was, Monday was the only day I'd have free this week to go over there - it's a half-hour drive away - but I didn't realize it'd be a problem. This is because of a hole in my personal scheduling process.
Tasks I need to do every day - from taking prescription pills to cleaning the cat box - I've found it best to memorize: 4 to do at this time in the morning, 2 at that time, and so forth, and I can then remember what they all are without overlooking one. One-shot things like appointments and concerts, and regularly recurring events I keep in an appointment book, writing the recurring events long in advance (like "pay estimated tax" four times a year). Most irregular things come in scheduling e-mails, and I write them down them. Paying monthly bills I can usually count on remembering to do, especially as the statements come in the mail, and things without statements, like rent, are due at the same time the bulk of the bills are.
What falls in between is our Zoom play-reading sessions. We do those Monday afternoons, but not every week because we're not always all available, and therein lies the rub, because we can't keep the schedule in advance, I can't write it down automatically, and if I don't write it down individually I'll forget it. That's what happened today. I hadn't had my appointment book handy so I didn't write it down for today and clean forgot. I don't have a tag in my head that reads "Monday = play reading." This is in keeping with my complete inability to remember to watch TV shows when they're on; fortunately with DVR that's unimportant, but now I forget to log them to record.
And so I left my fellow play-readers bewildered. Fortunately I'd left for B., who is one of them, a note saying where I'd gone, but if I'd been able to tell her in person she'd have caught me.
Maybe I should write the play reading down for every week and then cross it off when we're not doing it. Is that likely to work? Any other suggestions?