Lists

I always make lists.  As an OCD person (I'll avoid using the term "anal retentive" since my mom hates it), the only way that I can make it through the day efficiently is to make a list.  And as I take on more responsibilities at school and outside of school, it is a matter of survival to maintain the level of professionalism that I expect out of myself.  

Another thing that I do is color code everything.  Anything related to Blackwater is in blue (I know that the obvious choice would have been black, but isn't water blue?)  Things related to Lowndes County are in green (I'm not sure why I picked green; maybe it's because of all of the money that I make?)  The only logical color choice is associated with graduate school stuff: I use . . . . wait for it . . . red.  If I exercise, I use orange because my trainer is a Gator fan.  Things that are for "fun" are written in a random color each month; it really doesn't matter because there really aren't enough of them for it to really matter.

Despite the apparent organizational plan that I have, my house looks like a tornado has ripped through it.  Actually, it kind of looks like the Beales' house from Grey Gardens.  Okay, I'm exaggerating here at bit, but I have to admit that I am a bit of a pack rat, and my mother is not the best about throwing things away immediately.  For example, most people take the frozen dinner out of the cardboard carton and immediately throw it away.  My mother, under the guise that she intends to recycle it, will just sit it on the stove.  Eventually, it will end up in the recycle bin, but there is a bit of a time delay before it reaches its final destination.

One of the things on my list is to get organized.  That is on my list of things to do every summer, so that tells you how successful that I have been in that endeavor.  Because I live with my parents, my material possessions keep piling up, and our 2,000+ square foot house has become overrun with school supplies and teaching materials, clothes and shoes, and mementos commemorating all my 31 years.  What's sad is that I even have a storage container and the house still can't get any relief.  I think I might end up having to write a poem from the perspective of the house . . . 

The situation has been exacerbated by me moving schools this year.  Since the school that I am moving to is brand new, other people would have to move my stuff.  While I don't think that they would purposely lose my stuff, I have invested so much money into my teaching materials that I wasn't about to take that chance.  (Any teacher can tell you how refreshing it feels to go to the school over the summer and to have all of your possessions sitting like ducks out in the middle of the hall unsecure.)  Besides, we were told they would not move any furniture because everything was going to be new, so I, being the control freak that I am, decided to move myself.  To both my storage container and my house.  So, basically when July rolls around I am going to be totally confused because I won't know where things are.  

"Just Dance" just came on my iTunes.  I love making play"lists" for my iPod.  Secretly, I wish that I worked in the music business.  Or maybe just wrote about music.  I am such a music geek, but not as in "I was in the marching band" kind a way (no offense intended to anyone who was). If you are ever on "Who Wants to Be a Millionaire" and you get a question about music, I'll be your "Phone a friend."             

A list that I always look forward to is People's "Most Beautiful" list.  I always buy that issue, and bought it when it was just the "50 Most Beautiful," not 100.  It fascinated me as an adolescent to see how they defined "beauty" although it was rare to see very many ethnic people feature.  What I like about it now is how the issue have evolved to reflect different cultures.  Sometimes I think about what my life would be like if I would have been born ten years later.   

But then I wouldn't be sitting here with all of you.