Open Book Syndrome
Like most Canadians, I live a very busy life. And I have for many years. This story hails from a time when I was a stay-at-home mom with 2 young children and were running a media business. We owned an older home on a fairly large country lot. Did I mention that the house required a lot of renovation? That my Dad & one sister lived there too? Or that - at the time - I also sat on the board of directors for the area’s primary Environmental Awareness group, and on the Advisory Group for a new araea Farmer's Market? And of course, I should also include mention of pets and school activities, tutors, drum lessons and 4H club. And point out that - because our business was a member of the local media - I also spent time interviewing and photographing people, and attending many local events, wearing my journalist’s hat. I also tried to squeeze in a bit of yoga, walking, drawing and reading (the former few in sporadic bursts, the last item - sadly - usually relagated to taking place in the bathroom, as that is usually the only time I didn’t have 20 other things to do).
It was a busy life, but no more busy that anyone elses, I'll warrant. However, there was one thing about my life that was a bit different than anyone elses. I am sad to admit that I have always suffered from Open Book Syndrome. And I have a very bad case of it that troubles me to this day.
Open Book Syndrome (OBS) - for those of you who've never heard of it - is something that I diagnosed in myself some 40 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... it is easy for things to disappear when they are covered by receiving blankets, book 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 being given a new lease on life! Since discovering this wonderful new obsession, I have spent a great deal of time 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.
