Case in point: I leafed through my 1998 schedule book, which I discovered at the bottom of a box while attempting to clean our garage, and at least four of the identical things I'm still struggling to get done were in that book. It gets worse. Not only have the same unreachable stars followed me from year to year, but new unreachables have sprung up to form a galaxy of undone things.
Next, I took a look at last year's schedule book to analyze where my time has gone. Bottom line: it was swallowed up by a host of multifaceted little things that are not even measurable, things that defy you to classify them. The interminable, self-perpetuating, never-ending to-do lists rule.
First, there is the grand master list of all my projects and, of course, the sub-lists of steps to be taken for each project. Then come the shopping and errands list that I carry with me, birthday and important dates lists, the bills to be paid list, as well as the Post-its all over the house. What I need now is a list of my lists!
The undone things follow me around and haunt me, just the way that black cloud always hung over one of the characters in the old Lil'Abner comic strip.
With a smile, my husband asks me, "Are you spending more time on the doing or on the listing?"
"Probably on the listing because the doing has become too frustrating," I fuss.
Of course, the important and the urgent things must be done. But I read somewhere that the speculative and imaginative things you would like to do "someday" aren't worth the constant angst of carrying around,copying and recopying.
So I guess that just because I have wanted to do something for years doesn't mean it is still worth doing. I'm going to have to reassess my master to-do list. Here's to the survival of the fittest!