There are things that I wish to do; not ‘To Do’ stuff on amassing pieces of paper, nor the stuff of a Bucket List things. I do not have a bucket list and like Anja and N’n, I do not really do Bucket Lists: Not even one; the ultimate and real ‘before I die I wish to…’ list. For me, myself, I (Joan Armatrading)
I figure this to be a get out ruse. Who I’m deceiving any more than myself is not so easily discerned?
I understand the purpose behind lists and I do, somewhat hypocritically make them.
A list (not necessarily ‘The A List’) allows a physical relationship with the whatever, a touchable answer to responsibility for that whatever that gets neatly crossed off, or not.
No list means no such culpability. Does it also mean no goals?
I’m quietly confident that I achieve less without this push me to do it (Catholic) guilt trip.
(I cannot even think guilt without word association throwing Catholic at me. Any religiously offended reader, well tough really. Though if you want to give me a get away from the subject get out clause blame Alanis Morrisette 😉
I’m quite aware that I am not the go getter that is egged onward and upward by his own ego or even some questionably placed sense of social expectation. So why list stuff?
As I said, I do lists, of sorts: primarily as a must for memory.
If I write it down, a little like asking somebody to remind me of something, the doing so increases the chances that it hits that area of my brain that actually ‘might’ remember.
So I have a calendar on my Mac (which in turn synchronises with my phone and doubles the safeguards) and a reminder list attached with all sorts of technological aids to recall and recognition, if I should be searching for when I did whatever it was. These searches are frequent.
The alarms are almost frustrating in that I wish to ignore them yet there are sufficient events that would completely slip away or slide by me if it were not for my computer side kick.
Birthdays and the like are a well added to the list (what list 😉 notable.
My mate Mac allows me to remember them by warning me with signals, beeps, strange tunes and party banners in advance.
How far in advance is also preset depending on the physical mileage distance between the upcoming celebratee (a new word indicating the main part with ownership of the event. I haven’t used ‘celebrator’ because we are all the celebrator aren’t we?) and myself.
This theoretically allows me to post an actual card to them. A second alert on the day reminds me that I haven’t sent actual cards since, well; some time ago.
But not to worry; not only can technology handle this, it caused it.
My other good friend Freddy FaceBook gets in on the technologically assisted reminders and adds to the number of electronically suggested birthday wishes that I send. They must surely outnumber the number of cards that I ever sent? I could explore the cost saving and paper saving benefits. I could equally counteract these with a loss of original thought, personalised cards are available online yet their links aren’t as easily; linked?
I truly do wish a sincere Happy Birthday with all possible meaning and importance to each-and-every one of my FaceBook friends, friends that I know nothing of and have never met and those that are true, long term been there and bought the same t-shirt friends.
And there lies another tangent trailing off at an awkward angle: how do you categorise your friends? Work colleagues, mates, real dyed in the wool bonded best bosom buddies…?
You can sort them out into groups on the afore-mentioned social site and many others. Many more lists?
Lists ticked off, struck through on pieces of paper screwed up and thrown, from at least two metres away into a waste paper basket (for recycling obviously) may indeed be therapeutic.
Apart from serving as my necessary aide memoire, computer records are useful.
That they do possibly take more time to administer than a real memory is a well recognised whole other RANTABLE (a subject on which it is easy to rant) aspect of todays norm.
Though, in their defence, when was ‘I remember’ more admissible as evidence than ‘computer records show’?
Should it be this way? Computer errors arguably being primarily due to user error, input crap and crap comes out…
So to the list and what I actually want to do:
I really wish to grow herbs and vegetables, in my fourth floor flat. Ok it’s not NYC.
There’s no metal fire escape balcony and if there were I’d still wish to utilise the somewhat greenhouse indoor windowsill advantage.
I’m no gardener and my previous non committed attempts have been half-arsed hopes.
High on my list of sand castles in the present time is this somewhat small step toward a more genuinely in touch with what matters to me lifestyle.
Alongside, on the growing sort of written (jotted down to do 😉 scraps of paper merged with electronic memory enhancers (not the same ones as Lance Armstrong used) is the simple task of exercise.
Putting it off until tomorrow, always reasons and excuses?
I fell from a mountain is beginning to ring with a feeling of a bit of both.
So the minimal non impact core strength stuff I have NO reason not to do just requires a little self-discipline.
Light a fire under my ass and push me (not off the mountain).
Whilst you are there geeing me along with purpose let’s get a couple more ticked off: give up alcohol.
Give up? Give ‘it’ up don’t ‘give up; you haven’t yet got started!
I know that I should. I probably would, if only self-righteous healthy living hadn’t taken a back seat with me on this comfortable sofa half a bottle of red into the film, pizza in the oven.
As my intro page states, this blog is not supposed to be ‘About Me.’
I’m hanging to some hope that these lines resonate somewhat harmoniously with your own thoughts. I am writing what appears to be self-indulgent rather than self-disciplined (though at least I am writing…).
Perhaps I should list, self-disciplined ✘ self-control ✘ self-respect ½/½ self-indulgent ✔ Sigh … Tut, tut, tut… self, self, self? I so hope not! ‘Hope’ there’s a big ✔
As I read back through this there are SO many tangents and so much more within each subject I touch upon. Everything links to one another and the other in; a circle of life? Maybe a small circle? More like a full-stop? 😵😎