I have a doctor’s appointment coming up, and I keep laughing about it like it’s nothing, but the truth is I’m going because I’m not completely sure what’s going on with me lately.
I’ve been forgetting small things in a way that feels too frequent to ignore, and it’s the kind of forgetting that makes you stop mid-step and try to rewind your own brain like a movie.
Where did I put my keys. Where did I leave my wallet. Did I bring my phone into this room or did I imagine that.
These are normal mistakes when you’re tired, and I know that, but when they start stacking up, they feel bigger than they should.
A few days ago I was standing in my kitchen, looking at the counter like it had personally betrayed me, because I could not find my keys anywhere, and I felt that hot little panic rise that always comes when you know you’re about to be late and you don’t even know what you did wrong.
I found them eventually, of course, in a place that made no sense, and that’s what bothered me the most. It was the way my own habits had started to feel unpredictable.
That same afternoon, I ran into Mia, a woman in my neighborhood who has the calm kind of energy I always notice because it feels rare.
We were doing the polite sidewalk conversation, and I mentioned, half joking, that I was becoming the type of person who can lose a wallet inside a house she lives in. She didn’t laugh at me the way I expected. She nodded like she understood, then said something that sounded almost too simple.
“Put a chalkboard in your kitchen,” she told me. “Not a cute one, a useful one. You’ll stop asking your brain to hold everything.”
It stayed in my mind for the rest of the day, mostly because it felt like advice from someone who has lived through her own scattered seasons and figured out what actually helps.
So I decided to install a small chalkboard in my kitchen, right where I can see it when I’m leaving the house, and I want to tell you about it because this is the kind of tiny home habit that doesn’t look impressive online but can make daily life feel less stressful in a very real way.
Why the Kitchen Is the Only Place This Could Work for Me
I thought about putting something near the front door, like most people do, but my kitchen is where my day begins and ends.
It’s where I make coffee, where I refill my water bottle, where I set things down without noticing, and where I do that last wandering lap around the house before I leave.
If I want a system to stick, it has to live where my hands already go, not where I wish they went.
So I picked the little stretch of wall near the kitchen doorway, the spot I pass every time I walk toward the back hall, and the spot I see from the counter when I’m rinsing a mug. I wanted it visible without feeling like a sign in a classroom.
What I Installed and Why I Kept It Small
I didn’t want a big board, because big boards turn into guilt boards. They fill up with old notes, smudges, lists you stop looking at, and then you avoid them because they make you feel behind.
So I chose a small chalkboard, about 12 inches by 16 inches, with a thin frame and a shallow ledge for chalk. Just enough space for the things I keep forgetting, and nothing more.
I mounted it at about 60 inches from the floor to the top edge, which puts it slightly above my eye line, so I can see it easily without it feeling like it’s looming.
I used simple wall anchors because I wanted it secure, and I didn’t want to rely on hoping I hit a stud in the exact spot that looked best.
The Two Lists That Changed Everything Immediately
The first thing I wrote was not a to-do list, because I have enough of those. I wrote a leaving the house list.
Keys. Wallet. Phone. Glasses. Water bottle. That’s it.
It feels almost embarrassing to write those words down like you’re teaching yourself how to be a person, but the relief was immediate because it moved the responsibility out of my head and onto the wall. Now I glance at the board before I leave, and if something is missing, I know what I’m looking for.
The second thing I wrote was a doctor list, because my appointment is the reason this is happening at all. I wrote the date and time, then underneath it I started listing the little things I want to remember to mention, because I know myself. I will sit down in that office, and my brain will suddenly go blank and polite.
So I wrote: forgetting keys more than usual, feeling scattered some days, sleep has been uneven, stress level higher than I admit. Just enough words to remind me later that I am allowed to be honest.
The Chalkboard Rule That Keeps It Useful
Mia’s best advice was the simplest one: you don’t write everything. You write what your brain keeps dropping.
So I made a rule for myself. Only two categories live on the board. Leaving the house essentials, and one current important thing, like an appointment or a deadline.
If I start using it for grocery lists and random notes, it will become noise, and I’ll stop seeing it. I know this about myself, and I’m trying to build systems that match who I am, not who I pretend I am.
Every Sunday evening, I erase anything that is no longer true, and I rewrite only what matters this week. Keeping it clean is what makes it comforting.