Making a big to-do out of a missing list

I lost my to-do list a few days ago and I’m still a little rattled.

Did I forget to walk the dog? Or the dog’s grooming appointment? Or to buy that special food he likes that was only on sale last Monday?

I don’t even have a dog, but these are the things I fret about when I can’t find my to-do list.

I picture a small child waiting alone and cold on an empty playground because I had forgotten to pick her up.

(Full disclosure, I was once the last parent to pick my daughter up from school and she was standing alone on the playground when I got there. That was 15 years ago and she wasn’t even mad at me or flustered at all, but I still think about that scene when I can’t find my to-do list.)

Did I even do something super important (like restocking my Bigelow vanilla caramel tea stash) if I didn’t cross it off my to-do list?

I could check the cabinet for the tea, but it is so much more satisfying to swipe my pen across the jotted word “tea”.

Check.

My goodness, such a productive day!

You might think a person who buys crickets and worms every Thursday for the ageless Gecko she can’t believe she’s still raising, might not need to jot an errand like that on a to-do list.

But you’d be wrong. Your faith presumes that I remember the quietest member of our household, and his food preferences and the day of the week.

I need my little daily lists for that.

What I don’t need is someone finding my list and peeking into all the idiosyncrasies of my life.

“My, my, my. Someone’s got a sweet tooth. Wasn’t chocolate on the list last Monday? And what’s that Advil for?”

I’m hoping my list fell out of my pocket and into a melting pile of snow, where it can biodegrade rather than just degrade me.

Meanwhile, I’ll keep plugging away on the lists I do have.

I’m about to cross “blog” off today’s list.

Ahhhh! I feel better already.