Every Sunday night, once I have gotten most of what I need to get done for the week done, I sit down and begin to write my Monday morning to-do list. I have always been a to-do list maker. I list just about everything, and each item is written next to a small, empty square that I can proudly fill with a checkmark once I’ve completed the respective task.
When I started the school year, I was writing massive to-do lists every night. Every single night. And then every morning I was daunted by filling all of the boxes with checkmarks before the clock struck 8:55am. Now, for the most part, my to-do list making has been limited to Sunday nights. And in turn, that daunting feeling is limited to Monday mornings.
But actually, I think my Sunday night to-do list is now [slightly] less daunting than it once was, and it is instead more ritualistic. I am beginning to sink into the motions of a Monday morning–they don’t change much–and writing them down is a way to mentally return to a new week. It’s a way to both acknowledge the anxieties that come with Mondays, but also release them by putting ink to paper. It’s a way to take charge of the week, to prove to the week that I can do it. It’s a reality check at its worst, but therapeutic at its best.
Wish me luck filling these boxes tomorrow.