Letting my lists get the better of me

May 13, 2014 § 1 Comment

I am a list collector. By this I mean I am so obsessed with categorizing and lists that my list-making can sometimes interfere with my real life.

When I was little I could spend hours just paging through the American Girl catalogue, thinking about all the things in it and what I might do with them if I owned them. Or I could easily devote half a day setting up an intricate Barbie house that took up most of my room (or the flower beds when my mom deemed it too beautiful out for us to be inside) with a room for every possible activity (trampoline room: always a must) only to abandon it when it came to actually bringing a game into it.

I was obsessed with this book I had read once about a little girl so far lost in her own head that she would stare into this dollhouse, not actually moving or playing with anything anywhere but inside her own head. It’s actually quite a sad premise: the girl comes from a difficult home life and lives with a foster family, separated from all of her siblings. But for some reason to me that was the ideal: to be so enwrapped in your own thoughts that you are satisfied with just sitting and staring.

And since my adult self is much more wary of the places my mind goes when left to its own devices, this translates to spending more time searching for and adding movies to my Netflix queue than actually watching things on Netflix, or standing in the bathroom squinting at my phone while I perfect my Goodreads scoring system instead of going to sleep like I should do.

Maybe my list-collecting is a form of escapism, as I tend to get wrapped up in it more often when I have other more pressing matters on my plate. But it does feel good and calming to do it, and sometimes I can harness that energy toward work in the form of really intense research collages. But even those are sometimes me just avoiding jumping in with both feet. (See: last second gig going into to tech in 4 days, ie 7 days after they hired me)

What I think I’m really getting at is, I work too much and I realized tonight (read: just now) that my body, brain, and soul are essentially begging for a break. Obsessive mindless social media scrolling: it’s a symptom, not a disease, y’all.

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