Listing

I'm a list maker. A maker of lists. It doesn't get done until it's been to-do'ed.

This is partly because of the supreme satisfaction of recording something on paper. Once you've done that, you've brought a little order to the disorder that is daily life. At the very least, if feels like you have.

It is also partly because if it's written down, I will probably forget it. This worsened dramatically after I was pregnant. I swear the hormones neutralized some important brain cells.

(Also affected: the ones that help me recall words. Seriously. I haven't lost my vocabulary, it's just that increasing portions of it are sitting on the tip of my tongue. Is it just me, ladies?)

Plus when things get categorized into lists, it makes that generalized, hovering feeling of I Have Something I Need To Do feel less, I don't know, ominous. Hm, maybe not ominous. Jeebus, I'm not that Type A, am I? Let's call it pressing instead.

I've got the small "this weekend" list, and the bigger overall list which is subdivided into "this week," "soon" and "eventually." Sometimes I also have Post-Its.

Sigh. I guess I am that Type A. Just call me a recovering project manager.