It’s a cold and rainy day and I’m watching Ellen. I’m still in my pjs. When it hit noon, and I hadn’t gotten around to getting dressed, I decided to rebel and keep my pjs on all day. Just because. That’s one of the benefits of being the president, CEO and queen of your own company. You can “telecommute” any time you want and work in your jammies and no one will fire you.
So Ellen is talking about writing your Life List. Apparently I’ve been on another planet for some time now and completely missed the fact that this is the new thing we’re all supposed to be doing. I’m still working on my Gratitude Journal—so passé.
I did a Life List when I was 16, only I didn’t know to call it that. I called it the “100 Things I Want to Do Before I Get Too Old” list. It included things like go to Mexico, get a pair of lace up hippie boots, and write a novel. By the time I turned 21 and got married, making me therefore too old to do anything fun in my life anymore, I had accomplished 98 of the 100 things on my list. The only two I hadn’t done were backpack through Europe and motorcycle across the U.S., visiting all of the 48 contiguous states.
Feeling very smug and proud of myself, I took some time off from “life listing.” I thought I’d give myself a few months before creating a new Life List. But life didn’t wait for my list, it just happened. I had a couple, or four, children and concentrated on raising them. For a long time, my Life List only had one item on it: get through the next 24 hour period.
It feels like I looked away from that list for just a minute and all of a sudden it’s 26 years later, and I’m sitting in my jammies watching Ellen and remembering. So I’m making a new Life List (or as I plan to call it, My “100 Things I Want to Do Before My Teeth Fall Out” list).
#1. Get an iPod with vital accessories.
#2. Oh. Commercial is over. Ellen's back on. I’ll get back to my list tomorrow.
Now Playing on my intended iPod: I Hope You Dance by Lee Ann Womack