Losing Your Mind?

My Version of a Corporate Meeting

My version of a corporate meeting take place in my car.  There I was deep in conversation, passionately laying out the day’s game plan, brainstorming aloud, and possibly giving myself a little motivational speech that included finger-pointing and at least one air-punch.  \

Then I looked to my left.

Another motorist was staring at me.

Not just watching but staring in awe with a hint of judgement.
Like she was watching a nature documentary: "Here we see the adult male, alone in his vehicle, communicating with the herd... or perhaps... himself."

I froze.
Should I have been embarrassed?
Or should I have rolled down the window and said, “You’re more than welcome to join this meeting. Today’s agenda includes remembering where I left my sunglasses and designing workflows.”

Look, I talk to myself. A lot. Not because I’m losing it but because it’s the only way I can reinforce what I am supposed to do.  It is a form of rote memorization technique that gets me through the day.

I’m at a stage in life where if I don’t say it out loud, it’s gone. Vanished. Poof.
My thoughts evaporate like socks in the dryer.  No one knows where they go, they just cease to exist.

If you hear me saying:

• “Pick up dog food… not protein bars. Again. Stay strong.”

• “You scheduled the call for 3. Not 2. Do not screw this up, Steve.”

• “Who am I supposed to meet? No, seriously. WHO ARE THEY!?”

…I promise you, I’m not auditioning for a solo play. I’m not arguing with an imaginary friend. I’m running the only task management system that works for me.  I know there are all kinds of apps for our smartphones.  Let’s face it, smartphones and efficient apps have not made any of us smarter.  I write things down in a planner and repeat them repeatedly.

My inner voice has failed me multiple times.  It is weak and disloyal. Can’t be trusted.
It’ll say, “You’ll remember that….” then leave me high and dry in the middle of a grocery store aisle wondering why I’m holding a cucumber and staring into the void.  In fact, I was in Kroger’s where I must’ve looked helpless.  A female Kroger customer asked me if she could help me.  At the time, I was trying to negotiate opening a plastic bag.  Damn, did I look helpless?  LOL. 

So if you see me talking to myself in public, pacing, gesturing, maybe even laughing, I’m not spiraling. I’m syncing with my internal calendar. I’m confirming data. I’m probably reminding myself not to forget to call Mom, send that text, and put the laundry into the dryer before my wife gets home.

It might look a little odd from the outside. But I promise, on the inside? It’s a well-organized chaos.

So don’t interrupt.
I’m in a very important meeting with someone who finally listens to me.

And if you’re lucky, maybe next time I’ll invite you to join. But only if you bring coffee. My other self insists.