My brain isn’t just bananas. It’s a bunch of bananas that jump out of the bowl and chase the monkees around. That is to say that I have a hard time focusing. I used to be able to write or read for hours, but the introduction of the smart phone has taken what little attenspan I had and reduced it to the size of a speck on a grain of sand.
Even now I just had the impulse to check my bank statement. That might seem very adult of me, and I suppose it is compared to having the impulse to walk down my street and put everyone’s mail in different boxes. But I’m fighting the urge to walk across the room, grab my phone, and log into my bank account because I know it won’t stop there. I’ll check my email, the morning’s headlines, the weather, Facebook, Instagram, play a few rounds of Candy Crush, and then lay on my bed remembering how I used to write a lot.
I’m not being fiscally responsible. I’m distracting myself. And also, it’s 6:30 in the morning. There’s no reason to check my money. All the banks are sleeping.
Anyway, to keep my distractable brain from running in cirlces like a yapping toy poodle, I give it a to-do list. In fact, to-do lists have been the building block of my adult life. I make a list of things that need to get done and draw little boxes next to them that I can check off. Read a poem – check. Make a dinner plan – check. Clean the litter box – check. On days when I’m feeling particularly squirrely, I get even more specific. Brush teeth – check. Get dressed – check. Without checklists, I would be an unwashed, naked hooligan with no idea what I have in the bank.
But there’s a downside to checklists. One can get overly ambicious. I can go from “brush teeth” to “write 5,000 words.” And when I fail to do that, even if I “fail” by only writing 500 words, I feel terrible about myself. I think of Stephen King who in the book On Writing recommends writing the rough draft of a novel in three months. Then again, he gave that advice before the invention of TikTok.
Sarah Ruhl, in her Poet’s & Writer’s article “Not Writing Right Now,” suggets making lists to help you out of a writing funk. This is the article I’ve mentioned is a previous post where Ruhl talks about how a lot of people became blocked during the pandemic. Their pens just dried write up from fear and stress. Among the playful and practical suggestions she gives to bring happy back to the page, she says, “Make lists of what you did and what you will do…Make a list of what you have in the refrigerator. Then make a list of what the character you are working on has in the refrigerator. See if the lists differ.” She goes on to say that “Lists are a form of hoping, a form of praying.” She recommends making a list of things you HAVE done, which will make you feel accomplished. I HAVE brushed my teeth. I HAVE put on a bra. This list shows me that I am NAILING this adult thing.
When I write my to-do lists now, I also include things that I won’t do during my writing time. I call it my To-Don’t List. Much like The To-Do List and The Have-Done List, The To-Don’t List keeps me on a steady path and makes me feel accomplished. Don’t compare myself to other writers – check. Put my cell phone across the room, turn it on silent, and don’t pick it up – check. Don’t get on the internet – check. Don’t drink sink water instead of coffee – check. Don’t use a lit firecracker as a spoon – check. Don’t wear my shorts on my face – check. Don’t do a one-woman acapella performance of West Side Story in a doctor’s waiting room -check.
Well, damn. Only seven in the morning and my checklist is complete. What a highly accomplished grown up person.
