Years ago, when I was experimenting with my sidetracked nature, I tethered myself to the post in the middle of a round oak table using a six-foot rope. I attached the other end to my ankle. I had a dust rag and Pledge and a basket for “put-aways,” so I could deliver them when I’d cleaned the circle within the radius of six feet. This was all for keeping me in one place until the cleaning was done in that place. (I’d gotten the idea from a goat that lived on a farm near me. She was also on a rope and had cleared a weed-ridden patch into a perfect circle that resembled a putting green.)
In a way that’s what having only one leg to use has done for me. It has caused me to slow down my “action” while my brain remains at its normal output of information. One example happens every time I leave one room to go to another (which I try to keep to a minimum). First I make sure I have a list of what I’ll be doing in the room I’m headed for; sort of like making a grocery list. So going from the living room to the kitchen, my list might read: