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A Long Treatise on the Benefits but also the Sh*ttiness of Lists, with Sage Advice from the Author

czarinamisha

It’s Friday. Which means it’s my day off work. Which means, like most Americans, it’s my day to get sh*t done.


I used to have a running to-do list of errands and chores and projects for Fridays. I often wrote it out, but even if I didn’t it was always in my head. I can’t pinpoint when I stopped. But it may have been the best thing I’ve done for my sanity. (Except for actually seeking mental health help. More on that later.)


Because I never got through the to-dos. Not half-way. I accomplished less and less and less each weeks. Normally I like lists. They help me focus, help keep me focused on what needs to be done and what can wait. My to-do lists were actually triage. They kept me from getting distracted by and then 1000% focussed on, well, things like goung through the closets and pulling out all of the clothes that needed some sort of mending, then pulling out clothes with faint odd stains that hadn’t come out in the wash so needed special stain soak and scrub, then pulling out all of the clothes too light or too heavy for the season, then realizing I had several overlapping and very large piles of clothes on the floor/dresser top/bed and only a couple of old blood donor tees still “okay” to wear only because I wear them to do yard work so the misc stains don’t matter. And no place to sleep. And at that point nothing was getting mended or scrubbed or packed away until the next big temperature change. And nothing was getting put away either.


Lists kept me just teetering on the edge of the rabbit hole without completely falling.


But the day off lists . . . I don’t know. I couldn’t focus on them, couldn’t get anything done, and just felt like a failure for reading emails and watching tv.


I still keep the mental Friday to-do list, but it’s one maybe two things. My day off is instead defined as the day I have some control over how many people I have to interact with and I can watch tv and nap and read as I choose.


And sometimes on Sunday, or maybe Wednesday, I think, “I should have (fill in the blank with some important or possibly frivolous activity)! What a moron I am! I’ll absolutely do that this Friday.” But I probably won’t. I’ll forget because I don’t have a list.


I’ll do the one maybe two absolute necessity things. And maybe other essential chores or errands but maybe not. I’ll read when I want to read, nap when I’m sleepy (because I did the shopping at 6 am to limit the amount of people and COVID I expose myself to), sew if there’s mending to be done or I’m working on something. Snuggle with and pet the wee demon. Do a crossword or three.


It’s my free day to do as I please.


The same amount of sh*t gets done — possibly more since I’m not immobilized under the weight of a 10-ton to-do list.


Anyway, that’s my brilliant zen advice for today: don’t kill yourself getting things done just so you won’t feel like a loser who never gets things done. Because you won’t ever get everything done. And you’ll forever feel like a loser. And you aren’t a loser.


You are allowed to sleep when you’re tired. I know that sounds ridiculously unpatriotic to Americans, but it is true.


Oh, and back to that parenthetical thing I said I’d tell you about later: I did it. I contacted my primary care and told her I need help. Mental health help. And she is setting up the referral.


I don’t know if this blog, babbling and crying and analyzing my emotions and thoughts and a little more babbling and another round of micro-analysis and a final parting babble — it’s impossible to say if this is what got me here to the place where I can admit to myself and now someone else that I need help. Whether or not this did it, thank you for listening.


p.s. None of this is what I planned yesterday when I said I had an idea for today’s post. So, um, check back tomorrow and maybe I’ll get to it. Altho I feel like maybe I’ve talked it up too much and I kind of want to just skip it for now so you’re not disappointed thinking, “Seriously? This is it?!” and then I can just post it someday without any fanfare.


You know what? That’s what I’m going to do. Forget I said anything.

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