Why My To-Do List is Just a Suggestion at This Point

Once upon a Monday, I sat down with purpose in my heart, coffee in my veins, and a brand-new to-do list. It was color-coded, bullet-pointed, maybe even laminated (in spirit). I had ambition. I had goals. I had highlighters.

Currently, my to-do list is just a decorative piece on my desk. A well-meaning suggestion. A whisper of productivity that occasionally taps me on the shoulder, only for me to dramatically shush it while I scroll Instagram for the seventh time that hour.

The Illusion of Control

Let's keep it 100. Writing a to-do list gives you the illusion that you've got life under control. It's like meal prepping but for your brain. Except by midweek, I'm ordering shrimp fried rice and emotionally outsourcing all decisions to tomorrow-me.

Do I still write a to-do list? Yes. Every day. It's my own personal ritual of hope. But somewhere between, "Reply to emails" and "Finally clean that spare 'junk' room," things fly off the radar. Perhaps I'm not interested in organizing folders, replying to emails, or calling the dentist (that one has been on the list since 2021). No, instead I want to color outside the lines, eat Nutella with a spoon, and dance dramatically to early 2000s throwbacks on Pandora while my cat stares at me like I'm having a full-on breakdown. (I was. A joyful one.)

Productivity, But Make It Aspirational

To-do lists start strong:

• Wake up (easy win)
  
• Make coffee (obviously)
  
• Take over the world (pending)

But after a few hours:

• Answer email from Dave (Ew, David)
  
• File... something?
  
• Buy groceries or live off carrots?

Half of my list becomes cryptic over time. "Fix the thing" or "Talk to Dave about stuff." What thing? Which person? Why is "Trash Tuesday" underlined twice?

The Emotional Rollercoaster

There's nothing quite like crossing something off your list, even if it's "make list." That check mark? When I sigh with relief, my cat and accountability partner Littlebear purrs like he's been waiting for it all day. In all fairness, he healed his inner kitten ages ago. I'm just following a proven system. That strike-through dopamine hit? Pretty much therapy.

But the guilt of untouched items? Oh, it lingers. They roll over like bad credit. "Call dentist" has followed me through three notebooks, two planners, and a Google doc titled 'Totally DO This.'

My Solution? Embrace the Chaos.

With all this said, to-do lists aren't contracts. They're more like... enthusiastic drafts. Aspirational ideas for a version of you that sleeps well and thrives off structure. Sometimes you crush your list. Other days, success is just putting on pants and answering one email with a coherent sentence. And that's okay.

So if your to-do list looks more like a to-ignore list, you're not lazy; you're just human. Beautifully imperfect, chronically optimistic, probably over-caffeinated, and doing your best. And honestly? That's enough.

Now go make that list. Or don't. Either way, I support your journey.