I've encountered a lot of writing disguised as lists lately. Clever bloggers.
People certainly don't have the time to read paragraphs and paragraphs of prose, but they do have time to read lists. "Five things you shouldn't..." or "Fifteen ways to...." or "Ten types of...." Clever bloggers. You suck me in too because I may not have time to put on that extra swipe of deodorant in the morning (you know, that reassurance coat before you walk out the door?), but I can glance over a list (aka a numbered eight-paragraph essay) linked to a friend's Facebook status and hopefully become existentially enlightened while I'm in line at Dunkin' Donuts.
The barrage of list-essays got me thinking about the last month of my life. It's been busy, busy, busy, and in the precious free moments I can wrangle out of my day, I'll talk to anyone and everyone about just how busy I am....or, truth be told, sit alone in my bathroom for five minutes and examine my chin pores.
I think I've written about having a case of the "busies" before. It's rampant in our society. I think it serves two purposes. First, it explains why you've been a crappy friend, or only shampooed your kid's hair two days this week, or neglected that paleo diet you were starting, or haven't been able to write your blog, or forgot to train for that 10K (oops...all me). It definitely abates the guilt. Second, it gives you a sense of purpose, because if you're not super busy and occupied, then what are you? It's like our busy-ness ups our status in the world. (note: there are probably many more reasons, but I don't have time to think about them).
The truth is, we really ARE busy and trying to do it all. I get it. Still, I'd like to take myself out of the busy race, or at the very least, stop trying to come in first place. I don't think that on my death bed I'll happily brandish my to-do lists from my thirties and tell my family I done good getting crap done.
So, here's a list for you:
Three times today I had absolutely nothing to do and did nonsense:
1) 5:30-5:40 a.m.: read my horoscope and browsed preppy chicks' outfits on Instragram. This oddly makes me happy (should I have said perused I the Times?)
2) 6:40-6:55 a.m.: Sat EJ in my lap, tousled his semi-clean hair, and watched Thomas the train and his co-workers mess up things on Sodor yet again.
3) Right now. Eating soup and writing this. Also, just checked chin pores in compact mirror.
I know we're busy. I know we like how digestible lists are. Maybe let's stop reading so many of them and start listing the tiny moments of calm, breaks, and nothingness in our busy days. It's in those moments that the good stuff happens.
