30 Day Blogging Detritus, March Edition

Day two, To list or not to list?

3/2/2020

Alrighty, this topic is near and dear to my heart because I am unequivocally a list makin' kinda girl. I love tallying up the stuff I need to do that day, listing lists about the list.

What groceries do I need when I go to the store (which is the third task on my list)? Make a list! I've got visiting my offspring's school to drop off supplies for his teacher's class as first on my list- I need a list of those supplies for the list. Didn't get to cross off everything on my list? Make a list of the stuff I didn't do in order of urgency. See what I mean? You'd think I was a f***ing robot.

I assure you- I'm anything but. And because of this, I'm conflicted about my compulsion for list-making because of the origins of this habit.

You see, it comes from a tender time in my history where I worked in a stifling and cutthroat corporate job. Listing, planning, SMART goals, all were the mantras of this circle of hell and as minions, we were expected to comply.

I was young. Too young, most likely, to be carrying the responsibility of said job. I moved all the way across the country from my family, friends, and boyfriend to accept this job where I worked an average of 60 hours a week. I'm sure I don't have to tell you that it was a salaried position, so hey, I may as well have put a sign on my head that said: "PLEASE ABUSE ME".

I lived alone for the first time ever, and the city I moved to was HUGE.

Now, if you've read my bio on my portfolio page (if you have, I'd be surprised and flattered...) you read that I was raised by gypsy nomads. We moved so much I never took my barbies out of their boxes. But I'll tell you something- we moved together, and it turns out living alone was a bit of a *challenge* for yours truly.

Did I mention I moved to a big city? I've lived in big cities before, but I have to say this one was my favorite. (Hint: it's LA)

I loved L.A. because of... well pretty much everything except my godawful job and my succubus boss. There was SO much to do, and the nightlife was bananas. I know a lot of people who live there can't stand it- too fake, too much pressure for the glam, etc. but you know what? I never experienced that, oddly.

It could be because my driver's license and my license plate were from a very, very southern state and people decided to go easy on me, or it could be because I just hadn't lived there long enough to feel the suffocation of leather pants and botox. I don't know, but what I do know is I had a BLAST. Really, probably too much of a blast. Throw the fact that I lived alone in that soup and you've got a recipe for trouble for sure.

Would I change it? Not for the world. Do I have regrets? Wellllll, let's just say I've got some moments I don't want the whole world to know about, but the answer is no to that one too.

Oddly though, throughout all of the alcohol and drug-induced debauchery that was that time in my life long ago in a glittering city far away was the stability of my lists.

So here's to lists! Now, go forth and do tons of crazy s*** so you still need to rely on them.

-TPB