Trying to Reach Closure

So far this week the biggest decision I've had to make was which of my half dozen umbrellas to grab on the way out the door for my weekly monologue with Dr. T. The skies have poured rain for the past two days. Not that I'm complaining, mind you. Those cherry trees can probably use a little nourishment before they start unfurling blossoms in another few weeks.

There's nothing like curling up with a good book on a rainy day unless it's knitting but I just can't seem to motivate myself to finish those purple socks, the magenta mittens, or the cardigan sweater I started last fall. Reaching closure has been a problem for me as far back as I can remember. My children noticed years ago that I never completed a video game; I would battle my way to the last dungeon in Zelda or the last ogre on Yoshi's Island and then put down the controller, turn off the game, and find something else to do.

Lately I've noticed that I'm not the only one suffering from this closure problem. A sign in the Navy Hospital the other day had me wondering what ever happened to the staggered lunch concept enforced by every company that ever employed me. This sign made me frown.

Then I spotted a closure sign next to a cash register at a Japanese electronics store. This sign made me smile.

"I really don't know how to apologize to you.  Please move to other cash registers."