• I get up late. I walk the dog. I'm running behind, but I decide to check the weather online quick, because rain has been happening (again). I somehow decide to start up my financial management program, to see how bad things look after last night's transactions are downloaded. I tweak with it a while because last night's transactions have not come through. Giving up on this, I think about my sad money situation, and list my old Palm PDA on EBay. This takes some time, what with running to the kitchen to weigh the potential shipment package.
• I look at the time and realize I'm late with the morning phone call to my husband which we do every day as part of our couples therapy. I call and we talk for a while.
• I look at the time and realize I'm going to be late to work if I don't hurry. I can't fix myself some breakfast as Younger Son is occupying our crackerbox-size kitchen, so I start getting dressed.
• As I'm rushing to dress, I notice the CD-ROM for the printer interface I bought for the Palm PDA. I go back online and modify my PDA listing to include the interface. Then I realize that I don't have the interface with me here, and (knowing how chaotic our households can be) am not certain it can be found at husband's house either. I send an email to husband to ask him to locate said interface.
• I look at the time and realize that I need to leave NOW and I haven't eaten breakfast. I choke down some cereal and grab two slices of salami and an apple to eat in the car.
• Now definitely on borrowed time, I realize that I haven't done my morning pages. So I run into the bedroom to grab my journal, and notice that I left the computer running. I stop to shut it down.
• In the car at last with journal, purse, disgusting breakfast and (for a miracle) keys, I drive like a madwoman to work. I run into my office with journal, and realize that I left all my whiteboard markers, my textbook and the clipboard I use for class roster and announcements in the car.
• Throwing the journal down, I grab a roster and a purple ink pen and next year's advance copy of the textbook. I also grab my purse so I'll have my planner if I need to make notes. I stop at the division office to steal yet another whiteboard marker. I rush in to class barely in time.
• I realize that I haven't duplicated one of the handouts for my class. I surreptitiously print it on the classroom printer, and run out to duplicate it while my class is doing a writing assignment. Forgetting all about purse and planner, I make notes on my roster margin.
• I go back to my office with roster and textbook. I write an email to administration. I check my paper mail. I discuss class management with a colleague.
• I belatedly realize that I haven't had lunch. I fix lunch. I realize that I left my purse in my classroom, so I rush out to try to get it, but I can't get the current instructor's attention. Resolving to get it as soon as his class is over, I go back to my office and eat lunch.
• I start to do some Internet research for a lecture, an act fraught with peril on a day like this. Three hours later, I'm interrupted somewhere in cyberspace by an email from a colleague.
• I answer the email. I get ready to go home, and realize I STILL haven't done my morning pages. Worse, I STILL don't have my purse. I grab jacket, a bag of organizer stuff I'd been meaning to take home, and go over to the classroom to retrieve purse.
• I get the purse -- hooray! I stop to chat with another colleague. Then it occurs to me that I haven't chatted with the colleague who sent me the email in a long time, and he might have some light to shed on my current difficult situation. So I go over to his office.
• Two hours later, I beg off our fascinating conversation. OMIGOD, it's 8pm! Younger Son will be home and wondering where I am and whether to cook dinner for 2 or just to nuke himself something. I call home, but strangely, he doesn't answer. I drive home like a madwoman, figuring that he was probably walking the dog.
• I get home. Younger Son is not there; strange. I walk and feed dog, all the while wondering where YS could be...
• I remember that it's Wednesday. He was going to go to a library workshop ON MY CAMPUS and I was supposed to drive him home on Wednesday! It's now 8:45; I was supposed to meet him on campus -- when? 7? 6? I forgot to write it down in my planner on Monday when we discussed it.
• I panic. I call husband; no, YS hasn't called there. I fix myself a microwave dinner, telling myself that he's just as ADD as I, and will simply take it in stride and come home on the subway.
• It's 9:15. In full hysterics fueled by guilt, I wonder whether to cruise the neighborhood hoping to spot his mangled body before all life drains away, to call the cops, to go back to my campus where he may be waiting for me, or just to pound my head on the wall. I settle for cruising the neighborhood, as sitting still (always difficult) is no longer emotionally possible.
• it's 9:35. I spot him walking home from the subway. Sure enough, he was cool with the entire situation; thinking that I'd probably just had an ADD attack he'd come home on his own.
• And -- oh, yeah -- my journal is still in my office at work.

Note that to anyone outside the family -- I looked only mildly forgetful. I DID get to work on time. My students DID get their handouts. I DID get my purse, and have several productive conversations. And today -- barring keys locked in car (please no, Lord, please no...) -- was about as bad as it gets. It's just that the energy output to keep it at that level of very mild chaos is extremely high.

Damn, I hope my brain clears up tomorrow.