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Not the 'A' list

By Gloria Diaz

Check out Gloria's Blog — Edge of Gloria!

Fort Wayne Reader


As much as I fantasize about winning the lottery and never having to work again, I know that I would probably be lost without my lists. I am one of those people who need some sort of structure in her life. Even if I never had to work again, I’d keep busy in some capacity. I’d probably take horseback riding and piano lessons again; I’d schedule regular trips both here and abroad, and work on my writing and photography.

Recently, I was cleaning before leaving town again. It had been a while; coming home after finishing training didn’t have quite the feel I thought it would. I figured I’d come home, have fun, then go back and wait for a truck assignment and a route. I came home, but the letdown of not working all the time with having nothing to do all day was a shock. I ended up feeling more depressed than I had been in a while. Worrying about money didn’t help either, and it was scary to realize that I’d have to hang around at home most of the three weeks I was home instead of indulging in movie theaters and overpriced concessions.

On the upside, I did get quite a bit of writing done; extra columns, so there would be a backlog; short essays on a website a friend told me about, and finishing two chapters of my erotic romance novel (written under a pen name; I don’t need any more weirdoes in my life, thank you very much). All that, and I managed to socialize with some friends and do laundry and clean a little around the house, and in retrospect, it was not that bad of a vacation. It wasn’t nearly as exciting as I wanted it to be, but in between bouts of depression and bursts of creative/domestic energy, at least I couldn’t really claim that I did nothing.

However, coming across some lists that I’d written months, if not years ago, were somewhat amusing. One that was on my lamp table pretty much sums up my life a couple months ago. Written on a notepad given to me by one of my trucking schools, here’s what I wrote to myself as reminders:

Write one more column

Send lottery fantasy column

Work on article (I didn’t specify which one, so I can’t remember what it was I told myself to work on)

Get Discover check (linked to my financial woes)

Absentee ballot (I was driving a truck on Election Day, which turned out to be the most stressful day in my training)

CFA form to CC building (more election stuff)

Laundry (well, duh!)
Straighten up (i.e., clean)

Lunch w/Bryce and Kim Wed. noon (and we had a good time)

Bill (phone, gas, also set up online) (I never did get these set up)

Check P.O. Box

Property tax

See when P.O. Box is due

Send IFAC survey (more election stuff, and yes, I did send it)

Pretty mundane stuff. Wouldn’t it be fun to check out the lists of the rich and famous? One can only imagine what would be considered important enough to write down as a reminder. From Britney’s Day Runner: “Try not to drop kids on heads. Call Betty Ford about upgrading suite. Buy case of giant sunglasses to hide behind.” Okay, so she’s an easy target. Or how about this from Ann Coulter’s calendar: “Act like a complete lunatic bitch, but persuade everyone that you’re totally rational. Say nasty things about 9-11 widows. Think nasty thoughts about Michael Moore” and so forth.

Still, you might want to be careful what you write down, unless you aren’t afraid of family and/or friends knowing your darker secrets. I read the biography of Gia Carangi, supposedly the first supermodel. She was living the dream of millions of brunette women who wanted to be models in a world of blue-eyed blondes. Unfortunately, Gia’s appetite for drugs killed her, and she ended up being the first woman to die of AIDS in the United States. In the biography was a photograph of a page in her datebook, Wednesday, February 13, year unknown. Listed along with “mail rent,” “see about flowers white-red,” and “take clothes to cleaners,” is the notation, “get herion.” If you spell badly now, you’re really going to be hurting if you start shooting Horse. My advice: stick to pot. You may still want to spell and you’ll do it badly, but the difference is, you just won’t care. Readers, toke note! Er, um, TAKE note, I mean.

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©2018 Fort Wayne Reader. All rights Reserved.