The Blazing To Do Lists

I just have to get this off of my chest.

I have come across several, lovely posts recently about utilizing lists to achieve success. The advice has been great. The wisdom I gathered boils down to this: Keep It Simple Stupid. Make an achievable list with no more than three to five items and get to it!

I admire all of you out there with your lists, making boxes to check off, getting your shit done. I used to be one of you, flinging my arm with a dramatic flare when a list was complete. Let me tell you something – two months ago, I burnt those lists and I have never felt better. And I don’t think I will ever go back to making lists again.

Oh no! Blasphemy! How could I dare to do such a thing?

Easy. I hated those fuckin lists. They were not simple and were not achievable. What began as a daily task maker, turned into a Monday to Sunday chore grinder. By Saturday afternoon, I had whiney kid syndrome. I would stomp my feet and cry around. My time was up and I couldn’t conjure up the gumption to finish things. I would transfer the items to the list for the following week. I began to cheat. I wrote down simple things like “do laundry, wash floors, do dishes” just so I could feel good about crossing something off. You know what ended up happening? I neglected my floors and began to despise my dishes. As if! I have a dishwasher!

So like sonofabeach96 posted here, I had to rewrite my pages. I didn’t like who I was becoming. I was impatient, crabby and near tears most of the time. So I tore up those lists and sent those pages ablaze. I began to breathe again. I took notice of my beautiful surroundings. I started to do things for me, things that were good for my soul. And I feel fabulous.

So if you ask me if I have accomplished a lot this summer, my answer will be “Hell no”. I really haven’t. I have been walking around in a postcoital bliss with myself, nurturing parts that I feel were neglected for too long. Does this make me a success? Depends if you are looking at my “not done list” or if you’re looking at me through my daughters eyes. I bet she likes this version of me better.