I’d forgive you for thinking I’d flunked my writing challenge so I’d better get my excuses in early. Since “busy-busy” is my middle name with a trip on the horizon, a temporary publishing interruption of my jottings online was inevitable. I have, however, been scratching away in my notebook, so I feel it’s legitimate to fool the internet about the real publication date. Just imagine that the delay is just the same as taking the time to prepare the jottings in my best handwriting .
I’m a dab hand at retrospective accounting; meaning I can do my business accounts processing expenses months after the event and still book them into the right accounting period. My accountant tells me that this is perfectly acceptable so if its good enough for my financial affairs then it’s good enough for blogging.
Amongst my accounting foibles is a special talent for keeping a check on things. Checklists, to do lists and indexing lists so that I can keep all my lists in order. This talent is only surpassed by my ability to forget to look at my lists or reviewing my lists during bouts of insomnia believing that clarity of thought in the dead of night will somehow improve my memory the next day. I wish.
A psychologist would tell me that my list making is a symptom of control. Making lists is a way of fooling yourself into thinking that you have control among all the chaos of my life. Not that I live a chaotic life, just a full one with the potential to turn crazy stressful without a plan, even if it is an illusionary one.
Lists soothe when you’re about to have a meltdown about what’s on your plate. Focusing your mind on what’s truly important and producing a list of your current priorities re-calibrates your sense of purpose and that teeth-grinding moment of frustration will turn into an all-consuming calm. Admittedly, a cup of camomile tea might have an equally refreshing and calming effect too.
This week lists will be my crutch and my prize. Heading away for a trip will bring out the worst of my list making tendencies but without them I’d be a gibbering wreck. It’s times like this that I fully appreciate the role of being a domestic-executive as work intersects with home with the added complication that I am handing over the household reins to someone else whilst I’m away.
If I had greater OCD tendencies I would probably create a spreadsheet but I’m much happier with copious hand-scribbled notes that come together to form a masterpiece of project planning come work of fiction. I rarely ever complete everything on my lists which could be construed as false accounting although I prefer to see it as the perfect start of just another new list.Note: Written on 12 June and published retrospectively on 8 June 2014 as part of Jottings Challenge