Dude, where’s my list?

The MS MonSter ate my list. Lately, it seems he’s eating all my lists, no matter where I leave them.

That’s right. Blame it on multiple sclerosis and the big, bad MS MonSter. Of course, that sounds a little like scapegoating. It’s sort of like saying, “The Dingo ate your baby.” Except it's real.

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(OK, that wasn’t too funny in the 1988 movie, A Cry in the Dark, starring Meryl Streep and Sam Neill. But I gotta admit it: I cracked up when Elaine said it on Seinfeld.)

Still, whether to MS, to doing too much these days, or to a lack of paying attention, I’ve lost another list.

Lists are supposed to be helpful, offering simple reminders of stuff I need to do in a given day and what items I need to pick up in town. But a list is no good at all, if I can’t find it.

Maybe I’ve simply misplaced my latest list.

Or perhaps a certain Type A neat freak cohabitant (not mentioning any names here) may have stuck it somewhere that seemed more fitting than the place I remember putting it. Hey, it happens, and it's a crazy-maker.

Or maybe the MS MonSter actually ate the list, after all.

So here I am, listing around, looking for my latest lost list.

Eureka! Lately, I’ve taken to making lists on my (not-so) smart phone, since it has a handy little NOTES feature. Sometimes I even take cell phone photos of the lists I have stuck to the refrigerator.

Now, if I could only find my phone …

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Dude, where’s my list?

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