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.
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