Am I alone in that I would rather eat glass than have any person on the planet read my to-do list?
That was intentionally plural. I’m list happy. They keep me collected and free to focus on the present moment or task at hand.
Love a good list
I have a book of lists. A book! Just for listing things!
The lists range from life goals, to-dos for the year/month/week, micro tasks of a day, career goals, shopping, packing, the list goes on.
When I add something to a list, it allows me to completely forget about it, put it out of my mind, and put all of myself into whatever it is I am doing. I don’t waste energy washing over ideas of one thing while trying to do something else.
It also means that I capture my moments of brilliance. All I have to do is read through my list to remind myself. I can pick it up and run with it at the time that is most convenient for me, not the moment I think of it. I’m not under duress of fear that things will not get done or will be forgotten.
The little endorphin jab I get whenever I strike through a completed task or executed idea is enticing. Using red pen here really kicks it up a notch.
The endorphin nudge is also a nifty tool to encourage myself to do tasks I hate to my core such as putting my laundry away.
With the number of goals I shoot with my list I ought to be printing them on t-shirts.
My partner had gone away for the night and took some stationery from home to help him squeeze some work in during his downtime.
When he returned, he sprawled the contents of his bag over the floor. Nothing new here. However, among that mess was…my lists book.
My heart began pounding out of my throat. Did he read it? Did anyone else read it? If they did, do I want to know? Can I deny its mine? Why is this happening!
I did my best to hide my inner hysteria and noticed that he had no interest in the book what so ever. Not a blip. It could have been a dirty pair of socks for all he cared. Best I not draw attention, let the book slip under the radar.
So I waited for him to leave the room, scooped up into the safety of my arms and ran.
When things cooled down, I considered why the idea of another person reading my lists terrifies me. This terror is amplified if I care about the reader.
The lists don’t contain anything remotely riske’. Maybe that’s the point? Is it performance anxiety? Will they discover I’m super boring? Does “laundry away” really need to be itemised? Is this not an obvious task that is a reminder in and of itself? What kind of weirdo are you that you need to be reminded of that? Freak! I want a divorce!
Things I would prefer over sharing my to-do lists
- Public speaking
- Eat glass
- Receive an uppercut
- Help a friend move house
- Move house
So here it, one of my lists. Short and safe. Exposure therapy take 1.
- Download game
- Collect glasses
- Buy bananas
- Clean house
- Laundry away
- Work on honeynuggets
I struggled with adding item 4, buy bananas. No idea why, it’s the most legitimate thing on the list.ads position=”bottom”]