i'm making a list.
this is not uncommon. over the years i've filled notebooks and obliterated post-it pads making lists of every sort: restaurants to try, things to get rid of, friends to write letters to. when things got thick, every breakup was premeditated on paper. and even in it's simplest form, nothing still excites me like writing a list before trekking off to the grocery store.
when i was abroad last year, i kept a rifle paper co. journal to categorize every last detail: the most beautiful sights i'd seen, places i still wanted to go, things i had bought (a list a little longer than i'd like to admit). there were lists noting my favorite gelato flavors and italian swear words - both of which i used daily. a diary of less commitment, there are memories on those pages i assured myself i would never forget, but know now i would have - had not been for a few scribbled reminders.
and now, this monumental week of graduating college, leaving my job, and getting the headlight on my car replaced (!) has me feeling all kinds of strange feelings - ones that only a quality list can sort out.
(yes, mostly about the headlight.)
"what's next?", everyone asks. great question. after this week, when my graduation gown becomes little more than a great dementor costume; what am i going to do? and more so, what do i want to do?
so today i'm starting a new list. i think it's one of my most important yet.
a list of things i want to do:
write cool stuff
and not just because i got the degree to back it. and if i can't snag that agency gig right away? seems like checkmarking this list gives me plenty to write about.
work at a bakery
might as well get some professional experience under my belt, right? i'm also seeking to learn how to make bread that doesn't feel like chewing on a down comforter.
then, have a bakery truck
food trucks are everywhere (actually), so why can't i buy a giant peanut butter cookie (or five) off the street? as an added bonus, my bakery-on-wheels could zip down to rochester and reign supreme in their dessert-desert.
i want to sleep on other people's couches and listen to their stories and discover the world this way. don't tell my mom.
sling baby food with mara
coming soon to a farmer's market near you: local, sustainably-farmed produce pureed in to colors and flavors so wonderful, you'll want to eat them too. which is more than you can say for shelf-stable, store-brand chicken and pear puree. details to come.
replace my headlight
no, seriously... i have to get this done.
and so I have another list. one which will remind me to keep pursuing what makes me happy. have fun. live big. it's going to remind me i always have choices, big and small, that will define my experience. i'm at a place where everything is soon-to-be undetermined and empty, and i need to be sure i fill it with things that make me feel good about where i'm ending up.
and i need to be sure to replace that headlight. it will remind me of that, too.