Late Onset Order Disorder

I've always lived somewhere in between Veruca Salt and Scarlett O'Hara. I want it NOW, but I'll think about it tomorrow.

Or better phrased, I've spent a lot of time at Procrastination Station.

But somehow, when you run a carnival, you can't do that. There are theoretical committees that don't ever make it into reality. There are task lists and organizational aids that get tossed out the window. There's the Grand Plan and then there's What We End Up Settling For Because We're Out of Time.

I never used to be like this. I couldn't find anything I needed when I wanted it. I never made my bed, cleaned my room unless under duress, thought ahead more than a day. Oh, yeah, I will think about it tomorrow. It doesn't mean I'll do anything about it.

But somewhere inbetween college and marriage, I was stricken with LOOD.

And so now I have a spiral full of notes about carnival. I have walked through the entire event, booth by booth, in my head and made lists of everything I know we need. I have confirmed the vendors, the volunteer fire department's hazard house, the food, the drinks. I've created 19 baskets of goodies out of stuff the kids donated. I've even held a meeting! To which actual people actually came! Which is a first, let me tell you.

And I've thought and I've thought, and there isn't one thing I think I am missing.

But the feeling is there. There's a vital detail I'm overlooking. It's something stealthily hidden deep in the carnival mechanism, and I didn't get it, order it, do it. And it's going to hit me like a ton of bricks first thing Friday evening when we open.

Miraculous offers of help have poured in at the last minute, people have walked through the procedures with me, I've made those hundred lists and checked off things as I got them, ordered them, did them. But because I'm so used to thinking about it tomorrow, and reaping the consequences of that Scarlett life, that even success sits uneasily with me. It just isn't possible.

So Saturday when the thing is done, I'll tell you whether I rocked the house or embarrassed myself totally. If it went well, we'll blame the Veruca side.