Wednesday, 3 December 2014


I have a lot of lists at the moment. Actually, I’ve got a list of lists. A list for winding up school and a list for enrolling in a new one, a very long list for packing up one apartment and a shorter list for setting up another, a list for work, a list for Christmas, a list for saying goodbye and a list for all the odd jobs that don’t fit under any other list. Oh and of course the usual list of things to do ‘today’. Life has been reduced to words and sentences written one under the other on random bits of paper and crossed through with a black biro. I think of lists, scribble lists, cross off lists and wake in the middle of the night remembering something else to go on a list. Sometimes I energetically tackle my lists and sometimes I sit paralysed looking at my lists.
I’m dreaming off sitting on the balcony of our new apartment in Seaport, feet on the railing, drink in hand watching the river and the boats go by – with every task on every list with a big black line through it and each bit of paper torn into a hundred tiny bits and stomped into the recycling bin. Accomplishment and satisfaction…

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