The Tyranny of the Sticky Note

Perhaps you've read the theory about the "Tyranny of the Urgent," the idea that if we can just attend to things early enough (i.e. do homework as soon as it's assigned, instead of at 1 AM the night before), then we won't find ourselves tyrannized by the urgent, constantly trying to catch up.

It's a nice theory. Having seen some of our friends with children, I can say with surety that the mother of a newborn did not write that very nice theory. Babies do not present their parents with syllabi, nor do they adhere to some sort of schedule that allows for pre-emptive strikes against problems.

In fact, I've been told that babies wait until other urgent things are happening (car problems, other family issues, aliens invading from outer space) to have their own little crises. From what I understand, it is not until the cat barfs on the rug that the baby will choose to get into the china cabinet and play, on the same day that your computer dies. (augh, the BLUE SCREEN OF DEATH!!!)

But since we aren't yet parents, I suppose I could employ this idea of life organization more effectively. Our cats do barf on the rug, but only every so often. My problem, though, is not so much that I put things off (okay, so maybe it is, but that's not the point!) as it is my love-hate relationship with sticky notes.

I love sticky (or, as I like to call them, "posty") notes. They come in various colors, some with lines, some without. They even come in different shapes. Some are small and some are large. And they STICK to things! It's beautiful. But there's a dark side to my sticky note affair.

My dayplanner looks like someone from the 3M corporation puked all over it. It's a disasterous (yet colorful) mix of sticky notes, little scraps of paper (that have been stuck to a page by the addition of a sticky note), and business cards.

I have a to-do list, where I very responsibly organize & prioritize my tasks. I try to set goals so that I won't fall behind. Unfortunately, the to-do list also gets drenched in urgent little posty notes. I can't seem to help myself. They're so available, so handy... and so abusive. They're everywhere. I can't get rid of them. And there are few things more aggravating than looking for a scrap of information in the stack of sticky notes (was that phone number written on the orange posty or the blue one?) and discovering that you have EVERY OTHER POSTY NOTE EXCEPT FOR THE ONE YOU NEED. Arrrghhh!

If someone knows of a rehab clinic for office product addicts, let me know.