Tick. I spend my days either writing lists or ticking the items off my list. There is a great sense of satisfaction seeing a completed list : Send thank you cards to daughter’s friends — tick, email Auntie Doreen and ask how her gall bladder operation went — tick, de-frost the fish for tonight’s dinner — tick, de-worm the cat — tick (or was it ‘de-frost the cat and de-worm the fish?’ Better check my list), take out the rubbish — tick, shopping for the week — tick……and so the list goes on.
But does life have to be like this? A constant supply of tasks to be fulfilled and self-induced deadlines to be met? As a working single mum, I’d say yes, but some days I wish I didn’t have my pen permanently poised at my check box or that I was mentally running through the items on my list when I had a spare 27 seconds. Maybe I should try and be more carefree and let life go at its own pace. A mug of steaming green tea in one hand and a novel in the other or a leotard clad afternoon, stretching in front of a yoga DVD. I could be one of those people that I have always envied who takes life in their stride and gets things done when the mood takes them. People who leave the house with only minutes to spare before they are due at work but somehow, still make it. I envy you all. But then I ask myself, do they get things done? Do the kids leave the house with yesterday’s sandwiches and a brown apple core in their lunchbox? Is the fridge an empty, smelling cavern with some wilting greens and furry pieces of cheese? Does Auntie Doreen ever get her Get Well Card? And, will the cat ever be the same again after a life of worms? And so I wonder.
As I hold my completed list up high for all to see, I can almost hear the standing ovation from the breathless crowds and I can feel the pat on my back from my admirers. A well ticked box, they would chorus. But it still makes me wonder. Where did this need for control come from? Was I like this before I became a mother?
Mapping out the day
Maybe the day I left the house still wearing my slippers and with my comb still lodged in my knotted hair at the back of my head was the day I started making lists. ‘Jobs for tomorrow — make sure you wear shoes for work — tick’. Does this mean I’m a control freak who can’t function without her day mapped out? Will I possibly end my days in a psychologist’s chair, mumbling about the need for self-discipline and order? I may become part of some scientific research on ridiculous habits in middle-aged women and find myself starring in my own reality TV show.
But then again, I see myself as a woman with a purpose. A list is telling you that tomorrow is an important day and one mustn’t waste it idly sitting and relaxing. Oh no, a day with lists is a day full of structure, appointments and plans. And I know my day will end with a deep feeling of extraordinary satisfaction and an almost calm sensation because I have achieved my list of requirements and jobs. And then we have my collection of lists.
Look through any trouser pocket, handbag, glove compartment in the car, the book by my bed, the cat basket and you will find a small piece of torn paper with neatly written words, maybe some stars highlighting the most important of ‘to do jobs’ and swirly squiggles where my mind had wondered mid-list creating. My lists are very telling and any mood or deep thoughts are etched onto paper in coloured pens, capital letters or even worse, underlined and in bold.
But what about the unexpected occasions and moments in the day? For example, when a neighbour pops round for a chat without having made an appointment, or a last minute cancellation at the doctor’s. My mind will start to race and my palms sweat. It’s that delicious word — spontaneity. To me, spontaneity is like a gorgeous, chocolatey, gooey cake. One slice and it’s all over. Life lived through whims and delightful recklessness, is a life with your comb permanently stuck in your ‘bed hair’ at the back of your head and slippers that have trodden that garden path far too many times.
Write article for Gulf News — tick!
Charlotte Arrowsmith is an English Language lecturer at the UAE University, Al Ain.