List Serve

For each day I affront, there is a list. The listed items represent both large tasks and small. No thing is not worth mentioning; not worth getting down so that I can then axe it with a ball point pen.

(This is a sample list, though it is representative of most lists, give/or take/or slightly alter a couple items. Like, sometimes, I make coffee for Nic; sometimes, I brush my own teeth; sometimes, I call Courtney, or Amber,or…; and almost every day, I just straight up cross out shower. With a Sharpie.)

  1. Make coffee
  2. Give baby a bath
  3. Do laundry
  4. Eat lunch
  5. Brush Bela’s teeth
  6. Call Lisa
  7. Send out consumer complaint emails
  8. Read flagged articles
  9. Shower
  10. Go to work

(Most days, I get only #1, #4 and #10 done.)

If there are lines through the majority of the items, you will find a happy and proud little gal. If the list looks as though it has just been made — or worse — heavily altered…you are bound to find a ball of anxiety, cursing or crying, walking the halls like a caged lion.

My lists outline my purpose; they seek to give me peace. If the tangible is doable, then I have got a real handle on this life.

My beloved lists reveal just the opposite, of course. They are an exhibition of competency, for a being that is unable to feel competent. The shadows on the page whisper, then bellow. “There is more work to do, Kelly. So much more work to do.”



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