In which I am reminded of the very definition of insanity.

Today I spent 75 minutes looking for papers for which I previously searched over a six-month period in two separate states.  I found them today inside a book which I had put in the under-bed storage compartment of my tiny house.  Last time, I found them inside one of my mother’s sewing manuals in a box of books at my Kansas City storage unit.  I sense a trend.

Insanity being defined as doing the same thing repeatedly expecting different results, I can honestly admit that I must in fact be insane.  Every mistake that I’ve made in my 62 years and 11.5 months comprises a repeated pattern.  This applies to every level of error, along the spectrum of significance.  I don’t learn.  I keep failing at the same endeavors in the same sad way.

I can handle other people’s problems with acumen and objectivity. My own difficulties pose seemingly insurmountable challenges.  I admit that.  I don’t even shrug anymore.

But I did find the missing items.  They sit safely in an obvious and accessible location.  I need them on Wednesday.  I’m shopping for a fire-safe lock-box, into which these papers shall be placed after they serve their current purpose.  Can one teach an old dog new tricks?  Possibly not, as I’ve recently observed.  But I aim to keep hammering away at the iceberg, hoping to push it out of the way and sail unimpeded to the open sea.

It’s the twentieth day of the fifty-sixth month of My Year Without Complaining.  Life continues.


2 thoughts on “In which I am reminded of the very definition of insanity.

  1. Linda Overton

    It’s never too late to learn. BTW you aren’t such an old “dog” anyway. I’m older than you and I still love to learn something new.


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