've been up for twenty-four days now, and the preceding months, all
three hundred seventy six of them, seem like a blur. I tried to clear things up
recently -- no, about four years ago -- by cataloging them. I tried to make a
list, a diary, retroactively. It was interesting and I intend to revisit it
but it was too time consuming. I set out to do some chronological
archaeology on myself. I wanted to make a record of my entire life as
accurately as possible. I would plot out where I had been, and when and what
I was doing with whom, to within at least a day for each day of my life. I
would do this going forward as well as working backwards to the beginning. A
complete life history would result. If I knew exactly where I had been, when
and with whom, I might glean some sense, some better sense, of who I was or
where I might go, etc.The first step I took was to create a form to fill out for each day. It had boxes to check off and spaces to fill in and was smaller than a business card. The date, what I had eaten that day, what sort of creative input and output and some general comments about the day's events would cover this form. I made copies, cut them to size and put them in my wallet. For a few weeks -- I should say rather for a few days during a few weeks -- about four years ago, I filled them out. I never did it again after that. In the catalog, I have listed both this event and it's passing as facts.
The next step, which is still in progress, was to create the catalog. I made various files in the computer, dated by year -- or era, if I could not pinpoint the year. In these, I recorded (to the best of my memory) events on each day of my life. I recorded all childhood memories along with facts (school dates, etc.). Then I went through school records, old calendars and bank statements and receipts to find out where I was and when, etc. If I made a purchase with a credit card at a certain bookstore on a specific date, sometimes I could remember what book(s) I bought or who I was with. I recorded all of this information. At the end of the month, I would put in a recap. At the end of the year, I would recap as well.
I did all this for a couple months. Then I stopped. Ran out of steam. It
was too time consuming. Life was becoming a chronological archive. I have a
small container filled with these forms. Some are filled out. That was a
long time ago. I pull them out occasionally for a laugh. I write about the
laugh. I may pick it up again in the future. I may, at least, write an
annual report from notes taken monthly. From memories, bank statements,
receipts, photos, recordings, notes, scribbles, journals, emails, checks,
handfuls of change and used handkerchiefs, wallets and calendars, candy
wrappers and junk mail under the car seat, a broken pencil with a dried up
eraser with my name written on it from forth grade, endless reams of school
papers, essays, drawings, articles cut from magazines, advertisements,
I-remember-when books and other peoples' accounts of what it was like back
then... even if back then was just yesterday.
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