Chaos, Inc.

Here are a few things I've forgotten recently:

1. my lunch.
2. my office keys, still stuck in my door.
3. a book I was supposed to bring for a student.
4. where my iPad happened to be stashed. Seriously. It was under my chair, and I had to use Find My iPad. It sang a soothing but persistent song to me from under the chair. Like, what kind of jerk leaves an iPad under a chair? but in dulcet bell tones.

Also, tonight when I was trying  to tell my son about a piece in USA Today about Kyle Korver, and the historian simultaneously reached for a handful of caramel popcorn and accidentally, gently, knocked over an empty soda bottle--nothing was broken--and also simultaneously Bruiser made a "let's go on a walk dammit!" noise of whatever kind, and also at the same time I noticed that my house was dirty and the Christmas tree is still up,  I almost lost it.

I've always said I thrive on chaos. Which is kind of true, until it isn't. And then it's more like chaos is eating my brains out and also making a hella lotta noise while doing so, which means I might be losing my mind whilst also feeling mighty tetchy about it.

You know how this narrative is supposed to go. I'm supposed to figure out a solution. But frankly, on a day when I sent this text to my son:

because I had to conference with students at 6 p.m. and 6:20 p.m. and 7 p.m., and moreover tomorrow I have to be at work directly at 8 a.m. (what are we? farmers?), I have not one solution in mind. Literally: not. one.

I need:

(a) a cleaning robot with super-cleaning-robot powers. Like, the CleanBot 2000, with detachable Sorting Arm and an Executive Get-Rid-Of-That chip, for a 30% less cluttered home™.

(b) a DeLorean, so I can go back to the future, and make better choices about all kinds of things, including my Amazon purchases and my personal organizational habits.

(c) a full night's sleep.

Obviously, I'm not going to get any of these things. So basically, I'm going to try for 80% of (c) and see how that goes. Untidily, probably.

Dear the word "solutions,"

I like to use you, the word "solutions," on occasions like these:

• when there is a math problem.
• when there is a syntax problem.
• when there is a proposal in the offing, and a problem has first been identified.
• when you're talking about a homogeneous mixture of two or more substances--i.e., when one is doing chemistry.

However, when this came into my e-mail inbox today, I had to demur:

These are books you're talking about. BOOKS, the word "solutions"!

Is a movie theater a "cinematic experience solution"? Are shoes "bare feet solutions"? Is a taco a "TexMex deficiency solution"?

The word "solutions," please never behave this way again.

I'm not kidding,

htms

The Ballad of the Sad Wireless

[Note: not an actual ballad. I got three stanzas in and conceded the struggle. I'm just not a rhymer.]

The jist of it is: I did walk the dog before I went to work. And I also stopped to get a bagel, and I defy anyone, the people, to tell me I was wrong. First day of school calls for a bagel, full stop.

With the luck of angels I drove directly, more or less to a parking space. Got out, went in, had a breezy chat with the Provost at the foot of the stairs, opened my office door, and found that I could not get online.

What ho? I had shit to do online, the people. I had discussion posts to write and links to create, and all manner of online course building. There I sat in my office on the first day of classes, fully prepared to work my little heart out, and a necessary condition of that work was not present.

So I did what any sensible person in my position would do. I posted a note and went home, where I worked happily all afternoon. Work wireless: fail. Nonetheless: necessary work: done. Internet: accessed. Class: posted.

Hope your day was half as productive. I mean it.