Too Many Tabs in My Noggin

My brain is a buzzle, a whizzle, and a zoo,
With seventeen thoughts demanding, “Me too.”
One shouts, “Find your glasses.” One hollers, “Call Lou.”
And one says, “Now what were you trying to do?”

My many Post-its are gone except for a few strays.
They vanished like cookies in grandkid-filled days.
So errands and birthdays all jumble and hum—
But I’ve still got good stories—and plenty to come.

My cellphone goes bingity, buzzity, and beep,
With passwords it thinks I somehow should keep.
It says, “Swipe,” “Tap,” and, “Enter your PIN.”
I miss when a phone simply let people ring in.

My laptop says, “Update,” then shuts itself down,
While I sit there staring and wearing a frown.
It stores things in clouds. I don’t know where.
I hope, when it rains, all my files are still there.

The youngsters say, “Easy. Just click on that square.”
They zip through screens while I’m still sitting there.
They think I’m confused when my circuits all hum—
But I’ve still got good stories—and plenty to come.

I walk to the kitchen, then stop by the sink,
Because on the journey I started to think
Of six other projects, three people to call,
And wonder why I’m at the cupboard at all.

Now don’t start assuming my thinker is through.
It’s simply got far more than one thing to do.
My marbles are present. My gears still engage.
But there’s quite a crowd in my mind at this age.

I’ve memories and lessons from decades gone past,
While modern-day gadgets keep multiplying so fast.
I’m slower with passwords, with gadgets and some—
But I’ve still got good stories—and plenty to come.

I’ll laugh when my glasses are perched on my head,
And hunt for the book that I’m holding instead.
I’ll chuckle when climbing the stairs makes me say,
“Now what was I supposed to carry up today?”

So bring me some Post-its, a pencil, and cheer,
And kindly quit adding new passwords this year.
My brain may be crowded. My circuits may hum.
But I’ve still got good stories—and plenty to come.