My Life in a List

If you're a procrastinator like me, chances are you make lists.  Long ones, short ones, on the back of envelopes, in pretty lined notepads, lists you add to, lists you cross off, lists you forget, lists that breed more lists.

And when you're in the middle of finishing a novel, starting a new job and moving to Switzerland, the list-making gets so out of control you can't seem to find time to do anything else.

I've done less than half of the things I wrote down, but more than half of the things I didn't.  Which I guess makes it just about alright.

Things I have done:

• Run 20k, miraculously sparing my knee but now waddling like a duck from the sore muscles;
• Sent manuscripts to a total of 13 agents, bursting into tears over sealed envelopes ;
• Spent a long weekend of Parisian sunshine with the Hottie;
• Enjoyed champagne at the terrace of the Georges like a spoiled tourist;
• Painted my toenails dark blue on a whim;
• Read through over 450 INSEAD CVs, and others, to find "my team";
• Bullshitted my way through conference calls and email chains for a job I haven't started yet;
• Watched The Sound of Music again for the first time since I was eight.

Things I haven't:

• Packed my things for the drive to Switzerland;
• Found an apartment;
• Gotten Swiss health insurance;
• Resigned myself to the harsh reality of my imminent departure.