Sticky note hell…

Imagine a desk so covered in sticky notes that when you place your arms down to type on the keyboard, you come away with four of them stuck to you rather than the desk.
Yes. I am a sticky note-aholic.
The situation got so bad that the sticky notes adhesives were pulling the cheap finish off my cheap desk. So I laminated my desk top. The plus side to this is that I can make notes on my desk top with a dry erase marker, the down side is I tend to slide my arm through it.
Sticky notes. I make a sticky note for everything…and I dont know why. I keep calendars and journals and diarys to remind me of things.
I think senility is setting in.
Or, well, the obvious…I’m just crazy.
Today, I will not sit in this house moping over Fat Cat.
No. All my silly accesories for my truck have come in. I will be putting on my vanity plate, my decals and window guards. MY new lisence plate hasnt come in yet, because I had a custom one made at the DMV, so I’m stuck with a temporary tag for a bit, but at least on the front of my beast I can put my silly plate.
I still have some work to get done on the truck. I have sticky notes to remind me. :[
2″ lift. 33″ off-road tires. 3 new tire pressure sensors. a new lighter plug thingy. All those things someone else has to do for me. I have a guy, so I dont have to do anything through the Ford dealership other than order the parts. Lawdy does the dealership want a small fortune in labor. Their parts are reasonably priced, however.
I went to bed last night with the intents of taking a ‘nap’. I think the events of the past weeks have caught up to me. I went to bed at 8:30PM or so, woke up briefly at midnight, so to hell with it, went back to sleep, and well…its 7:42AM now. Thats A LOT of sleep for me. My mind appreciates it, but my body does not. I’m all stiff and my back hurts.
We wont even talk about the state of my hair.
So, back to sticky notes. I must condition myself to use less.
They are everywhere.
Hanging off monitors, in various places all over my desk, all different colors. Looking at some I think ‘Why did I even need to write that down?’.
Ah, my brain. Its a frightening place.

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