A fabulous life
Judy digresses from her regular “Top Five” column this week to help dear readers achieve a lifestyle as fabulous as hers.
Every morning, I create Judy’s Agenda on a yellow legal pad with a Sharpie fine-point marker (should you want emulate Judy, which, of course, you should).
After making this list (thislist,thislist — fun to say!), I put the letter “A” next to tasks of vital importance (i.e., getting out of bed); “B” to chores I’ll whiz through next, and “C” assigned to those pesky projects that I can delay until tomorrow but won’t have to because I use (patent applied for) “a system.”
Then, since my agenda looks jumbled, I rewrite it (using my Sharpie fine-point marker, which, no, I’m not getting paid to advertise, but, yes, I’m open to offers), grouping the A’s together, then the B’s, then the C’s, but seeing that one C really should be a B, I re-rewrite my document and am ready to start.
But suddenly my brain becomes befuddled by my masterful micro-managing and — as I must work at peak efficiency when in my I’m-Incredibly-Busy-So-Don’t-Interrupt-Me-Or-I’ll-Kill-You Zone — I decide to relax with the new People magazine before starting, which means I must re-re-rewrite my list once more, putting my People perusal as an A priority chore to cross out (certainly before the aforementioned “getting out of bed”).
So now I’m ready to begin (hey, it said in People that because Prince Harry was cavorting NUDE in Vegas, his father … ) and I begin!
But first, I write down what time it is now (gee, later than I thought) at the top of the list, and then estimate how many minutes I think each task will take, which isn’t easy because (Judy’s Wisdom Alert!) everything in life takes longer than you think it will, so when I’m finished, I go back and add 10 minutes to each allotted time before the re-re-re-rewrite.
Finally, as my very last step in this tidy process, I add up all the minutes, divide by 60 and come up with … 153½ hours.
This is a tad discouraging, until I realize the C’s can wait, so I carefully cut this section off the bottom of the list (using my daughter’s school scissors that are covered in paste, you use your good ones — I don’t care at this point), then get the new total of the A and B times, which is 24 hours and which, technically, is still one day because who needs to sleep, and finish up with a quick re-re-re-re-re-write.
Now, my pristine and perfect agenda is complete, and I am proud.
Let’s see, the first thing to do is … but, wait — now the start time I wrote down has long gone so I’ll have to refigure when I’ll finish and by the time I re-re-re-re-re-rewrite, the start time will be different again, so I’ll have to re-re-re-re-re-re-rewrite again and I think Prince Harry better watch his step or else he’ll … and this is how I get stuff done. The End.