To-Do

About three months ago, nesting took full force and turned me into a tornado of post-its, refrigerator list pads, and Blackberry notes full of to-do lists.

Buy newborn diapers, paint the nursery, excavate bottles and burp rags, set-up the crib...

Nope.  None of that. 

We're talking re-organize the mudroom, establish a new paper-sorting system and implement- no, enforce- a clean-desk area, make husband hang hooks and shelving, reorganize the car, re-file the filing cupboard, overhaul the bookcase, cover countless surfaces in designer contact paper, get the Christmas shopping mostly done by Thanksgiving, and reorganize the bathroom cupboards.  I can't look at an area and not find ways in which it needs to be re-sorted, re-stocked, re-surfaced and re-purposed.  I have become a crazed coupon-clipper.  My weekly grocery list is cross-referenced with who has what on sale, and what I have coupons for.  Items are highlighted: pink for Target, yellow for Cub, with hieroglyphics next to them indicating when their coupons expire and how much I need to purchase to get the best deal.

I can't seem to sit in a meeting, pull into a parking lot, or eat breakfast without jotting down something down on a to-do list.  Writing it down releases a certain amount of anxiety about getting it done - if I can't go through my closet again in the middle of a workday, at least I have addressed it by writing it down.  And crossing things off my lists gives me a line-by-line adrenaline rush.  I have accomplished something.  On nearly every list floating around in my car, in my phone, at my work desk, or on my laptop, there is an item or two that I have written on the list that I have already finished - I've written it there just so I can have the catharsis of crossing it off.

I was sitting in a meeting the other day at work when I clandestinely tried to work on my grocery list.  I nodded as we went through the agenda, while writing down milk, cheese, peanut butter, rosemary...  a harried supervisor sat down next to me and I shielded my list a little closer, hoping not to get caught.  Then I saw her legal pad and made out the one solitary note she had made so far in the meeting.  It said, "soup."  How many professionals at this table were making notes on their groceries? I wondered, then added "bread" to my list.

Oh, and did I mention that at 9 months pregnant, I had my own booth for my fledgling photography at a craft fair?  I nervously committed to this craziness four months ago when Children's announced that they would be hosting an Employee Holiday Craft Fair this year.  My decision to participate was made when I realized I was more excited about it than stressed.  And so I researched printing companies, ordered matting, purchased blank cards, sorted inventory, found a display-manufacturer, made gift bags, decided to also make ornaments, and made about 67 trips to Michael's craft store within the last several weeks.  I was organized.  But I still stayed up way too late every night this past week getting ready.  A girl who usually needs to be unconscious by 10, I have never seen so much Late Night with Jimmy Fallon in my life as I have these past two weeks. 

The fair went super-great, and thanks to the streaming company of family and friends in addition to a little something called a turtle mocha around 2pm, I stayed awake for it.  (If you're interested, you can check out some of my photos on my new blog, www.atheartphotography.blogspot.com)  I'm glad I did it.  But tonight, I'm even more glad that I get to cross it off my list.