On Love and a Note

There is a pink post-it stuck to the side of my computer. It is the color of my 1989 Barbie convertible and it curls at the edges because I’ve had it for so long. I even brought it home with me from my office in case I needed it during quarantine.

It reads:

don’t over brand, and email when  you you are done

I’m known for inaccuracy and sporadic documentation techniques but this is perhaps the second most cryptic note I have ever written.


I refuse to part with this square of paper until I can figure out what it is that I am supposed to do, and who I am supposed to email when I have finished.

I don’t usually keep notes on post-its. They are unreliable and often walk away with the wind, or on the elbows of those people that lean on your desk with their face inches from you and your computer screen like you’re actually asking them to get into the spreadsheets you are showing them even though you keep asking them if they maybe need an Altoid.

No, I mostly keep notes and lists in my phone because they are much, much safer there. That is generally where I write down which books I need to read, and what types of tomatoes I need to buy in order to make Italian chicken and risotto. It’s also where I keep ideas for stellar, knock your socks off presents for next Christmas and for my neighbors, dog’s Bar mitzvah. I have a million notes to myself. Everything from “remember to buy toothpaste” to “look up the meaning of the word pettifogging”. I’m incessant about writing things down.


Like, why do I know the date and year that one of my bffs lost her virginity? Why? Because I wrote down something else very important on that day whilst she was telling me about her new life development, and now the two are smushed together for forever like a weird peanut butter and virginity sandwich that gets served up in my memory every September 14th.

But this is a risk I am willing to take, because if I don’t write every single thing down, I will forget just as much of these things, sure as the sun will rise in the morning. Which probably also won’t happen if I didn’t write it down every day. Which is why this note is consuming.


What is it that I should be sure not to over brand? What if I’ve already over branded it and now whatever it is, is out there just super wild and over the top. Like what if I was in charge of Joe Exotic?

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Zero room for improvement here.

Why did I cross off “you” just to write it again? Was I going to assign this task to someone else originally and then decided to take on this project myself.

Typical, Mary.
Such a control freak.
What if I could have delegated this to someone else? The fact that I didn’t leads me to believe that it was far too important.

I will honestly take any advice or thoughts, unless it’s that “don’t over brand” means that I should stop buying name brand canned tomatoes. My mom taught me that they are the best and it’s one of those things that I have found to be incredibly true and I absolutely don’t want to go back to mediocre chili.

For now, I’ll have to table this investigation, though, because I have a lot of scraping around to do.

A Guide To The Moira Rose Lexicon On 'Schitt's Creek'

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