It’s cold and rainy so my smart brain says I need my boots.

Going down the stairs I remember I need to scoop that litter box. Okay, scoop the litter box and get the boots.

I go to scoop the litter box. It takes an effort but I’m up for the task. When I stand up from the litter box I see the water dish is empty. Okay, scoop the litter box, fill the water dish, get the boots.

I clean out the water dish and put fresh water in. Seven is leaning into the sink trying to be helpful. I put the dish back down then look up and notice that whatever you call the baggie thing that absorbs humidity is getting full. Make a mental note that I need to replace it then realize how cold the basement is.

I forget my list now and head to the thermostat where I see it’s 63 degrees. Yikes. Have you ever tried to figure out a thermostat? Mine’s middling old and there are a million buttons. It’s all about programs and settings and how many days to hold your setting and I cannot figure out how to simply set how hot it should be, how cold it should be, and to keep it in that range.

I finally think I’ve got it and head back up the stairs. It’s only when I open the gate at the top that I remember the freaking boots.

This right here is why at the end of the day I look around and sigh because 80% of my stuff is not done.