I find myself in need of a manager. This should surprise no one who knows me well, or even at the acquaintance level. It shouldn’t even surprise anyone who has simply walked by my desk.
All kinds of professional artistic types have managers; and since, technically, I get paid for being artistic, I think that qualifies me as a professional. And these people have managers for good reasons: namely, that there seems to be an inverse relationship between creativity and the ability to live life as a reasonably productive human being.
I know that there are organized, neat people who plan out their days. People for whom locating a certain item – say, this year’s W-2 form – is not a monumental task.
I am not one of those people. I write things on scraps of paper and then lose them, only to have them turn up once I don’t need them anymore, at which point I am scared to throw them away, just in case I find that I might need them again. I carry a notebook and tuck my scraps of paper in the pockets, only to misplace the entire notebook. And tax forms? Let’s just say I’m doing well if I only have to ask for one major form to be re-issued to me each spring.
Some of you may be thinking that’s it’s a little scary that someone with my…ah, unique abilities would even so much as look in the general direction of my family’s tax situation, or finances in general, or really anything having to do with the general health and well-being of the other people in my household. I would readily concur. So, as of right now, I’m looking for someone who can:
- Take down the Christmas lights that are still up on my house. (Actually, I like them. However, I think my neighbors may start shooting them out with a BB gun.)
- While you’re out there, get those gumballs taken care of. I’m liable to twist my ankle.
- File a few hundred pieces of paper. Small ones. Or just throw them away. Wait ’til I’m out of the room and I’ll never know.
- Do something about my laundry situation so that I’m not washing my kids’ school clothes for tomorrow at 9:00 tonight.
- Plan a few meals for me. I might can even do the shopping if you’ll just tell me what to buy. My kids are tired of grilled cheese.
- Hand me a weekly allowance. In cash. Bryan too. Don’t let him talk you into any extras. If you can manage that, I’ll probably just give you whatever’s left over after you pay the bills.
- Attach my keys and phone to a lanyard and hang it around my neck every morning before I leave the house. Or maybe just staple them to my forehead.
- Don’t try to put me on a system of any kind. Use the system yourself and just plug me into it wherever I need to be. Am I clear on this one? I cannot keep a system of any kind in my head, just as I am incapable of remembering numbers, budgets, dates, or how early I really need to leave my house in order to get someplace on time.
- Concerning that last item: you may want to consider secretly resetting all my clocks and/or telling me that the arrival time of any occasion is a half hour earlier than it really is.
- Find that dang W-2.
Wow! I feel better already, just knowing that this person is probably out there right now, on their way to me. Maybe we need to work it as an internship; I’m sure I could share valuable life lessons, such as how to blog, perhaps, or make your own t-shirts. If nothing else, my life could serve as a cautionary tale to one tempted to leave their organizational ways behind.
Applications are welcome. Simply email them to me or leave them in the comments…
you know that person is right here…does it include childcare? ;)