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Sunday, July 18, 2021

TO DO

Photo by Priscilla Du Preez on Unsplash

Those pesky To-Do lists—

I have them everywhere. There is a notebook on my phone and a file on my computer. There are multiple written lists in diaries and spiral binders, on notepads with kitty themes, and we can’t forget those little scraps of paper. I have a list titled Old Stuff To Do that I never look at; another To Do Eventually; yet another To Do Sooner; and a current list with no title which is the one I work from most often. Then there’s the list of things to do TODAY! It’s usually an improvised jot meant only for those imminent things I really must do, though it often grows out of all proportion, getting longer instead of shorter the way it’s supposed to.

Needless to say, I have a list specifically for writing tasks such as blog ideas, interviews, and deadlines. Since it’s summer, there’s a gardening list as well, though some of it—the big stuff like digging out the peony bed—carries over from year to year. “Fix the deck” had been on that list for a decade until just recently when my husband finally put in a patio. Next: the Catio!

Sometimes when I don’t look at a list for a while, the items go away of their own accord. Other times, I can’t remember what they mean, as with this one:

Multi Pass random (or radon?) rewrite X 5 (S?) passes

incinerate

If you have any idea what I was trying to tell myself, please let me know. Otherwise, this scrap is going into the recycle.

 

But at the end of the day, 

does all this list-making improve my quality of life? In a way, it’s necessary. I’m a bit obsessive and have a less than perfect memory, so unless I write things down, I’m either a) constantly going over them in my head, or b) trying to remember what they were so I can go over them in my head.

What would it be like to let go, to have no need of lists? To be free from obligation and chores? To live in the moment? I do that when I’m writing, though I suppose that’s not exactly living. 

I wrote a poem…



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