As I mentioned yesterday, I make lists. I do it all the time. I’m a list-maker.
Part of the reason is that I have the short-term memory of…well, a person who has short-term memory problems.
But mainly I enjoy making lists. Actually, it’s not so much the list-making, rather it’s the crossing-off of items on said list. I’m one of those people who will add an item to my list after I’ve already done it, just so I can cross it off.
Moreover, writing a list makes everything feel real. I write down every last air squat that I do at CrossFit because I feel like, if I don’t write it down, it doesn’t count.
I told my friend Bea about this particular branch of my quite catholic mental illness, and she found
(Courtesy of Natalie Dee.)
That simplifies things.
there is a museum exhibit somewhere in NYC at this very moment comprised solely of lists. i read about it somewhere. handwritten lists by picasso. and others. you are in good company.
amy, i believe we might be list making soul mates. i don’t feel accomplished or productive unless i’ve got a list with a bunch of things crossed off at the end of the day. and i also retro-list, i want credit for going to the post office and taking the trash out, dammit!
Cat, maybe my eat-ice-cream-and-have-sex list will end up at the Met someday!
Anna, retro-list! I love that term!
retro-listing. it’s the best.
cross off, take dogs to cuttyhunk! amy where are you?????