Notes to self going into 2011

I've gathered up the scraps of paper from my "to do" folder.  On the right side of this folder are all the "pending" things:  bills not yet paid, prescriptions to claim, coupons, and gift certificates; on the left side, I find my "life list" and a bunch of notes to myself....ideas, thoughts and reminders written down.  Now that it's the new year, I figure it's a good time to sift through them and see where my head was at last year.

I look over the first one; it contains the usual:  all the things I'm going to do to get in better shape and how I'll eat better - more salads, fewer carbs.  Didn't do it.  Then there's a note titled "things that don't make sense".  First one:   the expression "Expect the unexpected" - if you expect it, then it's no longer unexpected, so this is an impossibility.  Next is a comment about the product "Oil-free" Oil of Olay.  What??   I find a list of projects that includes making a photo album for a friend in the big city who moved into a bedbug-infested apartment and had to throw away lots of photos.  Another project idea states simply "book".  That's a big vague.  Verb or noun?  Read? Write? I'm thinking it was write.  I guess I should have completed my first novel by now.  Didn't do it.  Then there's a scrawled reminder never to use the expression "senior moment" or "Alzheimer's moment" when joking about being forgetful, out of respect for those who actually are forgetful, in a pathological way.  It is ironic, though, that I should write myself a reminder for that.  Then there's a list of websites where you can buy surf-inspired decor, a note about a screenwriting certificate program at NYU and, written on another torn up page, a movie idea::  Gidget-inspired movie, but with the lead character being a middle-aged woman.  Starring me, I imagine, and Joe, my hunky fireman/surf instructor in Hawaii.  A girl can dream.  Lastly, I've also written a short paragraph about my frustration with people who decide they don't want something in their grocery cart and, instead of taking it back to where it belongs, they ditch it on any random shelf....even if it's perishable.  So a carton of milk is ruined; big deal, right?  Wrong.  The damage caused by this laziness and inconsideration might not end there.  Suppose 10 hours later some young, dim grocery clerk finds the milk sitting next to the Pop Tarts and puts it back in the fridge.  Then, some unfortunate consumer buys it and soon spends 48 hours vomiting from food poisoning and misses his daughter's wedding.  All because Jane or Joe Grocery Shopper couldn't be bothered.

The last note I find states simply: no time to waste.

Note to self:  don't keep those notes to self; they're quite disturbing when viewed as a whole.