I will confess: I do love lists. I love lists because they are:
- Thought restoring and thought provoking
- Often therapeutic
They are ubiquitous in my head, in my purse, on my refrigerator, on my desk. Whether organizing my thoughts or my tasks, a list is a comfort and a help, employed as an assistive device, yet an object with a soul of its own. There is something innately satisfying about creating a carefully catalogued litany and then committing it to paper, each entry just begging to be stricken off one-by-one when addressed.
I’ve discovered that it’s not solely the memory-boosting connection that prompts me to engage in my listful thinking; I delight in the simple mechanism of list-making. I can enumerate the bejesus out of anything, extending far beyond the pedestrian Grocery List: My Favorite Movies, Countries I Have Visited, My Nook Wish List, 10 People I Would Like to Meet, Why I Love (Hate) My Job … you get the picture.
The workplace relative of the list is the bullet point. I am keen on bullet points, too. My memos are written in high bullet point style, even the most informal ones (e.g., Bills to Pay) that I post on my bulletin board. I prefer the old time, generic bullets, however; the florid bullets available in Microsoft Word are just crazy – stop the madness.
Outlines are just flashier, more highly educated lists. I hold outlines in high esteem as well. I adhere to the carefully learned and fostered outline style of my seventh grade English teacher: no “I” without a “II”, no “A” without a “B”, and so on. Remember the outline cards we had to turn in as part of innumerable research paper projects, grades 5 through 12? I rather enjoyed that, although I would never have admitted it at the time.
My illicit listmania could, I suppose, veer into the realm of OCD-ish-ness. At present, however, it is well-controlled, and provides assistance and diversion. I must say, though: Angie and Craig, whoever they may be, have the right idea! (And Franz Lizst might have the coolest name ever.)