The World’s Best to Do List, and How to Achieve Ultimate Happiness
by Want to know what is officially one of the worst things ever? Making an awesome to-do list. Why is this so bad you ask? Because it inevitably ends in unimaginable amounts of psychological damage and despair.
It always happens. Every time without fail, it happens. I go on break, it is the New Years, the new semester, I get a job, or some other life altering event…or I feel obsessive and randomly go into one of my cleaning/organizing spurts. Regardless of how it comes about, I make a list. I love my lists, I make a list for everything I do. If I’m planning on straightening my hair, doing laundry, and eating lunch I make a list just to have the delicious pleasure of crossing the little boxes when I’m done. Yes, I make little check boxes by my tasks, it’s so much better that way. If I wasn’t afraid of crossing over the line of severly crazy I would make lists like this:
Note: I am NOT this crazy, I made that for dramatic effect… My lists are more like this:
But, those are just average day-to-day lists. What I’m talking about is a ridiculous list. One with goals, dreams, and aspiration for the extended-but-near future, usually 1-4 months give or take. This is the one where you write down everything you have been telling yourself you’re going to get done plus all the stuff you really wish you could get done and organize it…and if you’re me make it pretty and colorful. I freaking love coloring…but that is another story… So you make you’re giant list with goals like “Work out everyday”, “Get taxes done”, “Write the great American Novel”, “Finish my pile of books that have amassed” and other lofty goals.
Then the amount of time elapses. You maybe get to cross 30-50% of the things off your list. Mostly the ones like: “Get blackout drunk on New Years” and “Try a new dish at Chang’s Chinese Takeout.” So basically your list becomes a carefully documented recording everything you didn’t do. It is physical proof of your laziness, your failure, your epic lack of awesomeness. So the beautifully crafted, carefully thought out, amazingly thourough itemization of to-dos becomes pure evil, because lists are more addictive and possibly just as destructive than meth will every be. So you wallow in despair for a while, and then make another list. This time it maybe be a little easier on your ego.
Moral: Drugs are bad. Lists are worse, but the high is oh so good.
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