While packing up my apartment in Brooklyn a couple of months ago, I found a box of (oh, let’s call them ‘vintage’) notebooks: pre-Y2K date books, address books with names from 3 or 4 lives ago, college notes from classes I barely remember taking, and pads full of to-do lists. These were the most interesting. Before I plunked that dusty old box into the trash, you KNOW there was going to be some rummaging – and it was an enlightening exercise, flipping through my beloved Virgoan lists. Time capsules they were, my archaeology of agendas. (Look Mom! See how I’ve grown!) Often the same entries appeared, year after year; some from 1996 remained until 2002, even ’05! I actually went 7 years trying to get to the DMV to renew an expired driver’s license. Household chores transferred from one week to the next, unaccomplished. (Really, who wants to clean the attic or oil the hinge on the back door?) Call Home was a common sight. Clean Out Trunk. And winner in the Most Popular category? File Taxes.
Well, It finally dawned on me that I’m not really a procrastinator. I just hadn’t written the right list yet. It’s a fine craft, I realize. Now I compose effectively. Order is crucial. Pleasure ranks. I sneak in one or two chores and the rest are activities I relish. Here’s a recent one:
1) Read a poem
2) Go for a walk
4) Do laundry or vacuum
6) Go to one: library/gallery/park/harbor/yoga class
7) Make soup
8) Empty compost bucket
9) Do online banking/investing/research
Carpe Diem, friends.