A touch of O.C.D.?

When I graduated college, I worked for a small design book publisher. The various books on gardens, interior design, architecture and other subjects were handled either by freelancers or the staff graphic designer, whom I assisted in various ways. Initially, I mostly made corrections to files, loaded disks to send them to printers, and scanned in the various slides, transparencies, and flat art submitted to us by photographers.

The longer I worked there, the more responsibilities I gained. Occasionally they'd let me create something small, such as a business card or an invitation to a book signing, and at some point designing the bi-annual company catalog fell on my shoulders. I had a sharp memory back then, and my multitasking skills were at their peak. Due to the slow nature of the outdated machinery the company had, waiting for progress bars was a big part of my day. The scanner took three passes to scan an image, and I often had batches of photos to scan at a time. The photo editing software took forever to save, the disks took forever to load, and the printer took forever to print. Fortunately, we had more than one computer and my chair had wheels. I devised plans of attack very quickly and carried them out almost immediately. I learned the timing of my equipment, and knew what I could accomplish on one machine while I was waiting for the scanner. While that computer was saving my changes, I'd roll back to process the images. When I first graduated, work was boring and eight hours went by excruciatingly slow. By the time I was bouncing from computer to computer, the day was fast-paced, challenging, and exciting.

We had a system of filing the photographs that came in, based on the projects. All photos of one particular kitchen would go in a manilla envelope labeled 23A, pictures of yet another kitchen might be in 23B, and a set of garden photos might go in 27A. The scary thing is, after I while I started REMEMBERING these log numbers. Since we were working on five books at a time, often with 30-60 manilla envelopes' worth of projects stacked in mail bins, my mental filing system made it VERY easy to track things down. My memory impressed my coworkers, and scared me as much as it filled me with pride.

That was then.

I'm only 30, although someone reminded me today that I'm far closer to 31 than I'd care to admit. When I first started working at my present company nearly 6 years ago, I could remember the job number of every catalog I designed within the span of a year. That ability is long gone, and as for multitasking, it takes but a single e-mail or phone call to distract me, and I sometimes move on to something completely different leaving another file open and unfinished until hours later when I tab to it and remember I still had work to do. There's information I need to access through a web browser throughout the day, yet my first instinct upon launching a web browser is to type in this URL. It often takes a conscious effort for me to stop myself before hitting return, and go instead to the proper work-related page.

Rituals are important. We all have routines, places where we know we'll find our car keys, cell phone, wallet and other important items before leaving the house in the morning. There have been times I've gotten to work and realized my I.D. card was still home, or that I'd left a piece of mail I meant to take with me. At some point, I naturally started double-checking myself. Before walking out the door each morning, I'd check my pockets and run down a list: wallet--card key--keys--work keys--cell phone---change--sunglasses. I usually bring a case with a sports drink, fresh fruit, and vitamins. I've taken to counting those items. Sometimes I close the case, have a moment of doubt or forgetfulness, unzip it and count it again. Then there are my gym clothes. I pack the bag the night before. I know my sneakers are in there along with a t-shirt and shorts. Yet every morning before walking out the door, I have to go through and count those as well. The scary thing is, despite all this obsessive checking and rechecking, I STILL forget things sometimes.

When I get to work, before I get out of my car, I check that my brake is on, the headlights are off, and I've put it in park. I've left it in drive overnight sometimes and didn't realize until I couldn't start the car the next morning what the problem was. So I count the three levers before I get out of the car. Sometimes I do it twice. Sometimes walking away from the car I stop, double back, and peek in the window to make sure, also checking that I did in fact lock the door.

All of these routines started out small, and helped with my increasing forgetfulness. Checking things once, and having a checklist, isn't a bad idea at all. But I've become so worried about forgetting things that, in second-guessing myself, I'm actually LOSING time. It takes me longer and longer each day to get to work. I guess it's good that I'm recognizing this problem now. I have a lot to keep track of, and the more things I can do without thinking the better off I'll be. But what happens when I start thinking too much? What if this becomes a disorder?

I'm sure I'm worried for nothing. For now, I'm going to reread what I just wrote five or six times, and make sure I didn't miss any key points.