Open Book Syndrome

Like most Canadians, I live a very busy life.  DH (Darling Husband) and I have two kids (DS & DD) and run our own business.  We also own an older home on a fairly large country lot.  Did I mention that the house requires a lot of renovation?   That my Dad & one sister live here too?  Or that I also sit on the board of directors for Green T Environmental Awareness, and on the Advisory Group for the new Caledon Farmer's Market?  And of course, I should mention pets and school activities, tutors, drum lessons and 4H club.  And point out that - because our business is a member of the local media - I also spend time interviewing and photographing people, and attend a fair few local events, wearing my reporter's hat.  I also try to do a bit of yoga, walking, drawing and reading (the former few in sporadic bursts, the last item - sadly - is usually now relagated to taking place in the bathroom, as that is usually the only time I don't have 20 other things to do).

It's a busy life, but no more busy that anyone elses, I'll warrant.  However, there is one thing about my life that is a bit different than anyone elses.  I am sad to admit that I suffer from Open Book Syndrome.  And I have a very bad case of it.

Open Book Syndrome (OBS) - for those of you who've never heard of it -  is something that I diagnosed in myself some 20-25 years ago.  I have explained it to a few people by using the "open book" example (hence the syndrome's name): If a book is open on a desk and another is opened on top, you no longer have access to the first book. If a third book is now opened on top of the second, books one and two are now no longer available. By the time you get to a fourth book, you not only have lost access to the other books, but have likely forgotten all about them and anything they contain.  In effect, everything underneath the top item has disappeared.  Lost.  Gone.

My OBS first started rearing its ugly head while I was finishing off my education.  I started to notice that I was afflicted with an inability to remember what was open on my desk if anyone set anything else on top of it.  So, if I was working on my english essay and someone dropped a great magazine down on top to show me, the english essay might as well have disappeared.  Similarly, my watercolour palette would vanish if my portfolio got laid on top.  And if I was balancing my cheque book and the new Sears catalogue arrived... you guessed it!  The cheque book disappeared.  Throw a pizza box on top of both and all is lost - except the pizza.  Funny - it isn't often that anything gets thrown on top of pizza... and so it seldom disappears unless eaten.

Over the years, I've suffered greatly with my unusual affliction.  It has had a profound impact on my life & my career - it is hard to be taken seriously in an administrative role when your employer's travel schedule disappears if the company holiday card mailing list gets set on top of it. It's difficult to keep the dishes done up if they vanish when covered by a tea towel. And when you have small children, life starts to get very unwieldy... its easy for things to disappear when they are covered by receiving blankets, diaper bags or piles of laundry.  I confess - I sometimes worried that the children themselves might disappear.

I spent years resigned to my sad fate.  I thought parts of my life were gone forever and was thinking perhaps I should apply for a government grant to look into possible cures when one day recently, something occurred that has essentially cured my OBS.  I had time to kill between appointments and I picked up a magazine that was lying open on a table.  Underneath the magazine was a box of Kleenex that had disappeared a few days earlier!  I picked up the tissue box in wonder and saw a lottery ticket I'd lost underneath.  Under the ticket - a business card I thought had vanished.  A light went on in my brain!

Item after item, pile after pile - I discovered that if you remove the top item on the pile... things start to reappear!  Its almost magical how it happens!  Pizza boxes can be lifted to reveal catalogues.  But taking it a step further, catalogues can be moved to reveal (wonder of wonders) cheque books!  I call this new discovery DOBS (Deconstructing Open Book Syndrome).

Why, its like I've been given a new lease on life!  I have spent a great deal of time lately deconstructing piles for the sheer excitement of seeing what is underneath!  I wish I'd known about this years ago! 

Now if only there were an easy cure for my other severe affliction - Intensive Unnecessary Procrastination (IUP).  But I'll tell you about that some other time.