I am a sucker for lists. I love making to-do lists. The only problem is that the enthusiasm stops there.

Every week, I compile a list of things that need to be done in the house or outside and, by the time the task is complete, I feel a sense of satisfaction as if the chores have been accomplished merely by writing them down.

Once the weekend comes, the list is looked at and then the deduction starts. Item No 2 can be put off while item numbers 7-10 can be safely postponed to next month ...

Eventually, the list is whittled down to manageable proportions. I assuage feelings of guilt by the thought that it is better to make a start somewhere in a small way rather than do nothing and waste precious time.

However, the weekend seems to shrink in size in comparison with the work to be done. Midweek, the two days seem to stretch into infinity but, when the time comes, it seems like time flies and, before you know it, it is back to work with all those chores undone. I congratulate myself for my good intentions and tell myself that I will definitely act next week. But the weeks turn into months and no progress is made. When the guilt becomes a gnawing ache, I make excuses for my inertia. I tell myself that I deserve to take it easy at the weekend after five days of slog. But I know I am fooling no one, least of all myself. Unlike the lotus eaters of Greek mythology, I cannot lay the blame on a plant.

However, the temptation of simply lazing around is hard to resist. Throwing caution to the wind, I decide to succumb to laziness and while away the time eating, sleeping and bingeing on TV.

But, after a while, this hedonistic lifestyle palls and I get up, determined to make modest inroads into the mountain of tasks. After a half-hearted start, the enormity of the task dawns on me. If it involves tidying a cupboard, the items taken out seem to increase in size and fitting them back in tidily seems impossible. That’s when the plan to fold the clothes (which had been ironed, but have somehow come undone) and arrange them according to colour and frequency of wear as per the advice of those self-help books and gurus comes undone. The day ends with one neat shelf and several others with items of clothing that have been tossed back in after patience took a back seat.

Feeling a sense of dissatisfaction, I sit down to write a fresh list. Somehow that gives me a sense of accomplishment that nothing else, not even getting down to doing what I am supposed to be doing, does.

Once this is over, the list is perused again to check if any task has been left out. Thus, some more time is spent refreshing that inventory. Then I decide that maybe I should categorise the items in order of importance. So, I go through them again. After several inventories have been made, the most ambitious one is kept aside for future reference.

As the days become weeks and the weeks months, I realise that what I had made was a wish list. And you know the saying about wishes and beggars.

So, sadder but wiser, I come to the conclusion that I will just have to learn to stifle the guilt and get back into relax mode. One way of doing this is to try not to open cupboards too often. Or, if I have no alternative, maybe I can close my eyes and reach out for whatever I want. Of course, finding what I need may be easier said than done.

Then I recall the quote — “To think too long about doing something often becomes its undoing”. So, I shall have to cultivate amnesia if I want peace of mind.