I’m a list-maker. When I get stressed out about the five thousand things I have going on — like, you know, right now — I begin to draft lists upon lists of what I want to accomplish, things I need to do or purchase, and obligations I’ve made. I update my Google Calendar religiously. My desk is littered with scraps of paper and scribbled notes: shopping lists for the grocery store and Target; discontinued car brands I can’t feature on the front of my Automotive section at work; recipes I want ot try; appointments; addresses of friends I want to send Christmas cards this year.
It’s basically a hot mess, friends. While some of my lists are typed up as carefully-crafted Word documents — like the one outlining everything I’m buying for Christmas, the recipient, the price tag, whether I’ve already purchased it, etc. — most are on Post-Its, receipts and scratch paper. I’m “organized,” yes, but it’s a messy chaos. It’s organization on crack.
The only list which is quite organized, it seems? My book wishlist. Scrolling through the countless blogs I enjoy every day, I add titles like an addict getting her fix. Maybe the novel features a dynamic main character, a fun love story or winning female friendships — and comes highly recommended by a trusted blogger friend. Or perhaps I just dig the cover. Whatever the reason, I keep meticulous track of what I want to pick up on Goodreads, carefully “tagging” and categorizing my entries.
Is it a little obsessive-compulsive? Maybe. When I’m hanging out in the blogosphere, I keep my Goodreads account open at all times. I can’t risk missing something, you know.
One of these days, I’m going to get really crazy and re-order that massive list — which currently holds 156 titles — into what I most want to purchase/borrow next.
But, you know, I’m not quite at that level yet.