I used to be an obsessive planner. Internally, more than externally. I mean, if you ask me to plan a party, I’ll cringe, and if I agree, it’s with great reluctance. No, it’s the planning of my days that I used to be obsessive about. What I need to do in the coming days, weeks, months. I have a calendar and I can’t live without it. Or at least that’s how it used to be. Now, it seems, I am finding myself forgetting to even look at it. Which is weird, and sometimes problematic. This past week I forgot to schedule my Spec-tran ride to Bible study. Completely flaked. Didn’t even realize it until the night before, which was too late to schedule. Thankfully a friend was able to drive me, but geesh! Who am I anymore? I’m beginning to wonder. I don’t know if this is a result of all the trauma therapy I’ve done or if it’s perimenopause mucking up my thinking. Could be both, I suppose. I can live with that, I think.

That is all for now. Carry on!