Thursday, April 1, 2010


To do today:

Fill up the car with gas. Lately, I've taken to ignoring important things. Like granting my car its ration of petrol. Display says that it has 13 miles left. Three miles to the gas station. So I've got plenty of wiggle room.

Drop off forty-pound bag of clothes at the dry-cleaner. I have a new goal: to get my clothes dry-cleaned more than once every two months. About every two and a half months (or longer) I have mornings where I look my closet in a state of despair--one that's greater than the usual state of despair regarding my outfitting situation. I write on my to-do list: Go by Banana Republic, re: more suits. And then I look down at my bag of dry cleaning. Oh! I might have clothes in there. Why don't I spend the $120 on that instead of new clothes and see what happens. Three days later, plastic-covered clothes hanging on my closet, my despair has returned to homeostasis.

Finish designing parking map for sister Caitlyn's baby shower.

Send invitation and parking map files to printer.

Begin hounding Mom and Caitlyn for addresses for shower invitations.

Expense report. (If you know me at all you know that I hate this time of the month more than any other. More than any other.)

Log car's miles for the month of March.

Bikram at 6:30pm.

Print out revised drug label and other new items for my product binder.

Sift through stack of mail on desk. Hope that there is very little that I've neglected that's overdue.

Ship shoes back to Amazon. Four pair ordered. One pair gets to stay (in the yellow). Three pair look nothing like their pictures. I'll bet those shoes posted the photos themselves. Hello! Amazon is not an online shoe-dating website. Thanks to them, I now have dater's-remorse.

(• Bemoan the state of my hair. Need a cut! Need a cut! Fortunately one is scheduled for Monday.)

Email final winner of Logophilia print from Navel Gazing giveaway.

Review changes Mom sent for the Mourning Run blog design.

Watch atrial fibrillation DVD. Again.

Email visiting teaching companion to see about availability for scheduling April.

Have husband tighten the screws on my desk. It's feeling a titch wobbly and I am deeply--and more likely than not, unreasonably--afeared of it suddenly giving out on me. Beloved Mac on the floor weeping. We bought Pier 1's floor model though (and like 5 years ago), so what can you expect? And I have a propensity to stand on it when I'm posting things on my magnet board . . .

Finally update the Rookie Recipe Indices. I do that about once every month and a half. And it only takes fifteen minutes when I do. You'd think I'd recall that and just take the minute and a half each time she posts to keep it up regularly.

• Put new Walter Isaacson book on my iPod.

• Drop Netflix Taking Lives DVD in the mail.

Remember to check porch for FexExed tickets to U2 concert. It's been more than once or twice or three times (or four) that I've neglected to look on the front stoop for any deliveries and they've spent a night or two in the cold. This package isn't one I want to neglect.

Go by Ulta for Burt's Bees miracle face serum. (No really--a miracle. It's the kind of things that builds testimonies.)

Make fun of grown women who wear big, fat flower headbands in their hair. (Oh okay, that doesn't need to be on the list; I'll do that without reminding myself.)

Charge phone. Please. Don't forget. Please. (You'd think it wouldn't be hard when I have a plugged-in charger for my car, at my computer, and at my bedside.)

Lotion scaly legs.

Buy two more ice packs for my bitchy shoulder.

Upload plum-colored Pavarotti print.

Make to-do list for tomorrow including items on this list that didn't get done. (This item is on every single list I write.)

Amount of things on this list that I estimate will actually get done (along with the whole, you know, daily doing-the-bits-and-pieces-of-my-job thing): two (2).


Note: please no tips on how to get my to-do list done efficiently. I swear to you right now: I couldn't give a damn how you get your to-do list done. My put-it-off-until-you-just-can't-anymore method works just fine for me right now.


And a happy April Fool's day. Whatever that means.

Twelve or so years ago my sister Whitney played an April Fool's trick on me. She put garlic salt in my toothbrush. I didn't notice until the thing was already slathered in toothpaste and in my mouth. Perhaps that was the inception of my strong dislike for foods with a strong garlicky taste/smell.


Jessica said...

I need to look into that face serum. I need a miracle.

Yeah for lists!

L said...

I enjoy your lists almost as much as your tweets. Hope that shoulder stops aching.

Walker said...

I try to see how many miles I can go after my cruising range says zero. It's a hybrid, so would the car really ever stop running? So far, 30 miles beyond zero is okay...

Winder said...

My list often looks like this:

Change Menace's diaper


Feed Menace

Change Menace's diaper

Start Laundry

You see how it goes.

I have an entire list of real things I need to do on the fridge whiteboard. Haven't looked at it for a month.

Julie said...

So, how many of those things had you actually done when you wrote that list? Cause didn't you say once that you do that?