I almost forgot to write this column because it wasn’t on the list.
You know the list I mean: The weekly to-do list, not to be confused with the daily to-do list, which is different from the “do before the spring equinox” list. Also different from the grocery list, the library books to reserve list, birthday list, errands list, must-see movies list or “what I wore” list (it’s lapsed since retirement, but I kept a spreadsheet of my daily wardrobe, with subcategories for shoes and accessories. Today it would simply say, “Leggings, leggings, leggings, church, leggings.”)
Hi, my name is Julie, and I’m a compulsive list-maker. If pen and paper were drugs and alcohol, I’d be in the gutter.
I know I’m not alone. Raise your hand if you understand how satisfying it is to draw a thick line through words like “scrub baseboards.”
I’m an equal-opportunity list-maker. I scrawl them on scraps of paper, napkins, the fridge’s whiteboard, notebooks, my phone, the back of an envelope or ATM receipts. One day, with no alternative in sight, I furtively scribbled in the palm of my hand.
I never, ever go to the grocery store without a list because otherwise, I’d leave with two half-gallons of ice cream, fresh flowers and no olive oil or laundry detergent.
I use my phone most often, but somehow, it’s not as satisfying to thumb a little checkmark next to “buy toilet seat.” Crossing out entries is the best part of making a list.
For a while, I kept a list on the kitchen whiteboard and cleverly took a photo of that, but again, it removes the pleasure of crossing out each line.
List-making is actually a bit like cooking, or so I’m told — I haven’t cooked since 2014-ish. But I recall how satisfying it felt to put the meal on the table and watch it get hoovered up in 60 seconds, followed by empty chairs and a sink-full of dishes. So, maybe that’s not the best analogy.
But crossing items off a lengthy list makes me as giddy as losing five pounds, which also hasn’t happened in years.
We’re planning a trip this summer, and I’m already making lists of what to pack, day trip destinations, restaurants to check out, tickets to buy, etc. It’s almost as much fun as actually going.
Selling our house generated wonderful lists. Get new carpet! Find painter! Call Realtor! Hire inspector! Stage living room! I drove Widdle nuts, but it was a glorious time.
List-making is, for me, calming. When I need to feel focused, I make lists. I do it on planes, trains, in Ubers, waiting rooms, lobbies and the passenger seat of my car. (Widdle always drives. ALWAYS.)
Half the time, I lose or forget lists, but that’s not the point. Jotting down items is a way to control the uncontrollable, i.e., life.
I figure everyone has some compulsion: peeking at their phones, twirling a lock of hair, tapping a foot. Barack Obama reportedly ate seven almonds — not six, not eight — every afternoon at 3 p.m. (He later said that was a joke. A joke has a punchline. I think the almonds were real.)
Psychologists say list-making is a way to establish order in an increasingly disordered world. It helps us establish a sense of control and responsibility. For some, making lists is a way to feel focused and grounded.
And you thought you were just scrawling “Tide pods” on the back of a lottery ticket.
Julie R. Smith, who will be making lists on her deathbed, can be reached at widdleswife@aol.com.
