Day 88: She's Making a List and Checking it Twice

I have all kinds of issues with my to-do lists. For one thing, I have way too many of them, little scraps here, post-it notes there, long-term ones on my desk, short-term ones in the cup holder of my car. I spend so much time consolidating and reorganizing my lists that there's no time left to actually get anything done. That's what a vacation is for.

I don't bring my lists with me on vacation, not that. I get that a vacation is meant to be relaxing. But how can I possibly relax knowing that the poster I've been meaning to get framed since October of '06 is still leaning against the wall of my office? Nope, to the frame shop it goes, pronto! And I absolutely must get to the carwash today (I marvel at people who can keep their cars clean -- I truly aspire to that). No matter that tomorrow I'll be driving to Maine, the car overflowing with teenagers, which means candy wrappers (wait, no, those would be mine) and water bottles and flotsam and jetsam. Forget all the pine sap that's going to coat the hood like sticky maple syrup that dries on your countertop. It has to be clean prior to the trip because it's been on my list for months! And the toothbrush whose owner left it behind after a sleepover several weeks ago? My God! His teeth must be rotten by now. It's imperative that I deliver it to his front porch ASAP, even though he left for vacation a few days ago.

I've spent some time pondering my pre-vacation state of mind. Am I worried I won't be returning, so everything must be left shipshape for my survivors? Oh no, I'm coming back all right, I just don't want to come back to a lengthy to-do list. I'm not going to have a good time if I'm fretting about all the stuff left undone at home. I want to maintain my vacation high after the party's over. Never mind that I whip myself into such a frenzy in the days leading up to the trip that I should be checking myself into a funny farm instead of a lodge on beautiful Sebago Lake.

"The Elves and the Shoemaker" was one of my favorite childhood tales. Remember? The shoemaker had those fabulous, secretive personal assistants that snuck in and did all his work for him every night? Dreams really do come true! The Brothers Grimm are credited with that story, but believe me, they ghost-wrote it for a mom with time management issues. My fairy tale, on the other hand, has taken a modern, nightmarish twist: the elves come, but they simply leave me new lists. How else to explain the errands and projects that magically appear each morning. The friggin' elves.

One of my worst nightmares recently played out before my eyes. As I buzzed myself into the ATM at the bank, a woman already inside looked up, shaking her head sadly. She held up the empty, slightly wrinkled envelope in her hand so I could see the alarming truth: it was an orphaned to-do list. Our eyes locked. "Oh no," I gasped, "that's awful!" We shook our heads in unison. Some poor woman is out there, wandering listlessly. By now she's probably on vacation, at least I hope so.