Having been a teacher for 9 years now, I still get the "wow, your a teacher, you're so lucky you have so much time off" speech every now and then. What's funny is that I laugh along and politely agree that a week of no scheduled activities is bliss....but deep down I never feel that way. Anxiety sets in, time stands still, and everything I had been avoiding crosses my mind. My inherited compulsive nature takes over. I start to do what I've seen my dad do since I was a kid...make a list. He has a list for everything.
A food list (always with items that we already had multiples of)
A laundry list (whose day it was to do laundry out of the 6 people in my family)
A list of our dogs bowel movements (Prince pooped at 6:00am but did not pee)
A list of items on sale that week (from the Sunday circular)
His own personal "to do" list (which included items such as "build the front porch" "tear down the wall in the kitchen"
A list of errands (go to the bank, go to Walmart, go to William Tell)
A list of things for other people to do (Barb, buy milk)
These lists were always written on pieces of paper my dad would bring home from his office, and were neatly cut into perfect sized list-making papers. The lists would sit on the kitchen counter, and everyone who came into the kitchen would go directly to the lists and read them over. I don't know why we all read his lists because even if he did write a note addressed to one of us, it was usually to inform us that the dog didn't poop and to walk him. It's not like it ever said "you've been working hard, take the day off from school!"
So naturally, I caught the list bug. My problem is that I have a continuous list running in my head. Contrary to my dad's practices, I never write it down. For some reason I always think I can remember what I need to do. I add to this mental list as my vacation goes along, usually never crossing anything off. Here's a break down of my first few days off from this holiday break.
Day 1- Things to do: Spackle the hole in the wall. Touch up the hallway with the blue paint. Paint the door moldings. Buy closet doors for downstairs. Clean the dryer vent.
I think this will take me 3 days..tops
Day 2- ok...what can I cross off the list....nothing. Well maybe I should start smaller. Clean out the refrigerator, clean out my file cabinet, unclog the drains, back up my photos onto my external hard drive.
Day 3- I feel like a failure...I need to accomplish something from this list. What's on the list?? I should have wrote it down. I'll rearrange my furniture down stairs in the mean time. That looks good. Now I need to buy bar stools for the new space I created. Off to the store.
Day 4- As I drink my morning coffee I spot the hole in the wall that needs to be spackled and all that anxiety comes back. The list! I spent the next 4 hours thinking of other rooms I could remodel instead of painting. I know, I'll make the spare room an office...I need a new computer. Back to the store.
Day 5- How much would it cost to hire someone to paint my door frames? There's got to be kid in this neighborhood who needs to make a few extra bucks.
Day 6- It's probably better to paint when the weathers warmer. What else did I say I needed to do?
Day 7- I could totally sit on my couch all day.
This has been my pattern for nearly 10 years at 4 vacations a year...that's a lot of self imposed mental torture. The concept of the list is a good idea. We write things down so we don't forget to do them. When we are done, we can cross them off and feel accomplished. But what if you don't want to remember what you wrote on the list? I think that's why I never write it down. It's like I use my initial list as a bartering tool for myself. Michelle- you can either create an office upstairs in the spare room, or take apart the mental tubing attached to the dryer and clean out the lint. If I thought cleaning out the file cabinet was my big "to do" I probably would never have done it.
Maybe my dad had it right. Half sized pieces of accomplishments displayed so proudly on our kitchen counter each day. I doubt he sat down and stared at a hole in his wall wondering if he could just reposition the curtain rod to cover it up. Writing it down is a commitment to getting it done...and my dad gets sh*t done.
To do
1. write down things to do
