Those Critical Weird Notes

So I have a bone to pick with... myself.

You see I left myself this note on June 2nd last year in my agenda that read in my bilingual jargon:

paint fence pour lignes 

Note to self: Make notes clearer, dumbass. 

Just like that. Now translated into one language it reads: Paint fence for lines. (well, that's how I translated it,  if I would have translated it properly it would have made more sense to me because sometimes the right word summons the missing link.)

Now why for the love of all things written would I leave myself that note on that day? It was clearly something I wrote in January when I got my new agenda. I am on a few committees and I work for the community, so this note could be for a number of things, yet not many have fences. I went down the list searching for the missing link; Work (no fence, don't need one), Home (dog pen is new and not in need of paint), Play park (tennis court needs fence repairs and new paint- I went to look in case my missing link was lingering there waiting for me, it also needed more work than I alone can do so I made a note to start looking for grants), Parish (cemetery fence was nicely painted, church has no fence), Hall (no fence), Library (no fence) ??? hmmm.  I felt like I was missing something and even as I type this I can't believe how stupid I am.

Note to self: If it feels like you're forgetting something, chances are you just can't see it through the simple. 
 Of course at that moment I was clueless and the more I thought about it, the more confused I was getting. Where was my missing link? I called Superman and asked if he had any ideas what fence needed paint or lines? Hoped that by talking it out my missing link would slam into me. Nothing.

Since it was a bilingual note maybe it was a French missing link? So I asked around in French, talking to everyone I met about painting and lines... Nothing.

I walked around my yard, my house, my work... looking for that link.

Note to self: short people don't just walk into a missing link. They have to summon them. 

That night I added it to my list at home and turned it into this: Have kids paint the dog pen this summer when they say they are bored. I felt good about that note. Was clear. But it didn't put me at ease. I HAD to paint lines somewhere.

Note to self: Giving other people work, isn't the same as doing your own.

The day passed and no one called in a panic and no one asked why the fence lines weren't painted (okay that doesn't make any sense, why would anyone paint a fence line!). And then another day passed. I moved the note to July 1st, in case it made more sense in July.

Note to self: Don't move notes, find out why they are there, you twit.

I dismissed it as something that must have hit me in the moment and really didn't need doing.

Note to self: If you left yourself a note, it needs doing, moron.

Then we had a tornado run through town and throw things into a mess. The cemetery took quite a beating
and the trees were uprooted and the headstones displaced and I was looking at the mess with a heavy sigh wondering how much work this was going to be when I noticed a metal bar sticking up in the middle of the new section. Had the tornado stabbed it into the ground? Wow, that was crazy. I pulled it free. Where did the metal rod used for surveying fly fro-- Oh crap. Suddenly the paint fence for lines made sense. This rod was my missing link. OH NO!

I was supposed to meet a guy at the cemetery in June to survey the new area. I was to bring paint and mark the fence so the new plots were in a row (or des lignes in French). 

Note to self: use one language to write notes, idiot.

I remembered the conversation now, back in January... at the annual meeting. The guy said if I wasn't there the day he came, he'd leave markers. I didn't like the idea of rods all over the cemetery so I offered to mark the fence until the new plots served as guidelines.   

So I asked the maintenance guy-- who was there with me stressing about the condition of our beautiful cemetery--  where the other markers were so I could mark the new rows on the fence. I could do it now, right? He didn't know what they were and had removed them so he could cut the grass. Of course he had. I had just done the same.

I had no one to blame but myself.

Ever leave yourself a note but had no idea why? How do you summon those missing links?


Richard Hughes said...

That's definitely a cryptic note. They say James Joyce read/spoke about seventeen languages. I wonder what his notes look like? Probably like "Finnegan's Wake".

Valentina Hepburn said...

I was married to the missing link once. And yes, he got a summons! Love this post. Hope all is going well.

Suzi said...

Not very often, but it has happened. But I don't remember if I figured it out.

Wasn't sure of the timeline. Did you figure this out before June or after?

Teresa Cypher said...

oh my goodness! Thanks for laugh. I love to watch you admonish yourself in that humorous way you do so well. ;-) So glad you figured it out. Writing notes to myself? I'm good. I speak (and write)only English. :/

How have you been?? Is winter over yet? I hope so. :-)

Tanya Lynne Reimer said...

Richard! HAHAHA. Yup. A nightmare.

Oh Valentina, thanks for the laugh!

Suzi, it was much later. Mid July. And I still haven't fixed the issue.

Glad I made you smile, Teresa. That's always the goal. Yup. It's over. Sunny and melting! Yeehaw!

Elizabeth Varadan, Author said...

Thanks for a good chuckle this morning. I'm in Spain right now, working on my Spanish, but I've just made a note to myself: never leave yourself a note in Spanish. :-)