I love lists.
I would rather write lists than do the things on the lists. Lists make me feel organized, ahead of the game. They help me plan groceries, meals, packing. I use them to stay awake in boring meetings. I practice drawing the perfectly rounded bullets and dots that litter my pages. I use lists to appear to be organized, even when I’m not. Right now I have 9 separate lists on mydesk, and what am I doing? Blogging about my lists.
I am also a stacker. I make pretty piles: of dishes, of papers, of folders, of books, of place mats, of blankets, of pillows – all artfully arranged. (My bedside table looks something like this). Oddly, this desire for and love of organization does not roll over into a need for cleanliness. Orderly? Yes, definitely. Clean? Meh.
Tonight we are hosting our first ‘dinner party’ for another couple. I’ve met the husband once and never the wife, and though I’m not shy, I am mildly stressed hostess. I’m opting for a Mexican theme for ease and a reason to drink margaritas on a Wednesday. The menu includes:
- Ruby Red Grapefruit margaritas (family recipe)
- Negro Model beer
- Chilled cucumber slices and baby carrots with roasted red pepper hummus
- Black bean corn salsa with baked tortilla chips
- Chicken enchiladas with salsa verde
- Black beans and cumin
- Sorbet with Pepperidge Farm cookies
Even though my stress levels are higher than normal for a Wednesday night, I do have a my lists to lean on – one for the menu, the groceries, the housecleaning tasks, the table decorations – and I feel a bit better.