I’m a “list” person.  I usually keep a pretty good to-do list and one of my favorite things to do is cross things off lists.  Sounds kind of sad, but I know there are other people out there like me.  Lately, though, I’ve slipped a little on my lists and haven’t been checking my calendar.  Birthdays, anniversaries and other important events tend to slip by unnoticed when that happens, so I’ve gotten back to my lists.

We’re heading up to Pat’s parents on Wednesday this week and I might head down to the Outer Banks to visit some family on Tuesday.  So I am actually in crazy list making mode.  For some reason, when I get ready to go away, I feel compelled to cross everything off my list before we leave.  Even if said thing has been on the list for 2 or more months.  

And in the middle of all this preparation, I’ve been randomly moving books around on bookshelves and other small items of redecoration that absolutely had to be done this weekend.  
So, this weekend, among other things, the tomatoes got re-potted, I drove to the mall to return a shirt, I went to the post office to return another shirt and I put new baskets in the living room.  In the process of these few things, I came up with about a hundred more things to add to the lists.  I think it’s a disease.  But a disease with a pretty good sense of accomplishment as long as I don’t get too crazy with my expectations.
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