Making a List: Checking it once, twice....and once more

Let’s see, I have flour, bread crumbs, pecans crumbled….My checklist runs through my head over and over again.

Did I miss anything? Pork tenderloin, sliced in two centimeter slices. I need red wine vinegar, seedless black berry jam – where is that sauce pan?

Bread – what kind of bread? What kind of bread do you serve with pecan crusted pork tenderloin over baby spinach drizzled with a berry/wine reduction? Could I fry up some cornbread? Should it be toasted ciabatta bread? Should it be warm or cold? Definitely plain…Ciabatta it is. Hmmm…do I need to go to the store? I wonder if we’ll have guests. Should I call someone? Aaugh – WINE?!!

Welcome to five seconds inside my head. It’s the run of the mill moment of my obsessive compulsive disorder. If you add anything to my list, I have to start over. I have to reorder my list; check it once more and then restart execution mode.

There is something else you should know – as I feel compelled to share too much information into the inner-workings of my simple mind.

You see, as much as I think of my friends and family – as much as I love them – they never know it during the holidays. You see, part of my disorder is my inability to put something in the mail.

The CHECKING and the LISTS: It happens when I’m awake. It happens while I sleep. It’s not as exhausting as it may sound. I’ve been like this all my life. While much of my methodical mental state is something I’ve grown to accept, there is a weak little side of me trying to defeat the cumbersome load of lists.

SHE is the one seeking normalcy. SHE is the one who steps up to face fear: stepping on stage to sing, to the podium to speak and in the center of the room dancing like only SHE knows how.

SHE only accepts defeat when the shy beast overtakes all heart and lung functions leveling her with some sort of the massive anxiety attack -- and always at the most inopportune and embarrassing time.

This year, like the last 7 years, SHE is the one who purchased a massive quantity of Christmas cards, writing personal messages to the ones she loves. SHE addresses and stamps them with the intent of mailing them. That is when the “checker” comes out and seals them, unseals them – double checks the right people are receiving their own personal message, updates the messages, reseals them, checks the addresses on the outside, reseals them…sets them aside in case something is forgotten…(DRAW DEEP BREATH) Recycle and repeat.

Fast forward and check the calendar – It’s Valentine’s Day and the cards with their full addresses, stamps and envelopes make the eventful move to a box, sealed and stored in the attic.

This happens every year SHE attempts to overcome the inevitable. There exists the full intent of wishing you a happy holiday. It just never makes it to you via the postman.

This year, SHE showed up AGAIN. SHE purchased a bundle of gifts for an adoring nephew. The unwrapped beautiful shiny new things are sitting -- unaddressed, unposted and not even going to make it with the rest of Santa's gifts!

SHE even started on the special written communications before Trick or Treater’s came knocking on all hallow’s eve.

Resigned to the perpetual reality I can do the one thing that comes easy to me --
And so, I cook – dredging the tenderloin – dipping in egg and then pecan crumbs. The oil is just the right temperature….but I can only flip these once. I must remember to time this right. The best part of cooking with wine is the recipe gets a little and my glass – well, who wants to reseal this bottle? Let’s pour what’s left into an ona to breathe!

The blackberry and wine reduction is now on low as I prepare the spinach. If only everything came as easily as cooking dinner.

In the next room, the warm light of a lamp glows over a cascading stack of envelopes spilling to the floor below. Across the most visible address, a spectral shadow of light glimmers from a blinking string of Christmas lights – a baptism of cheer as though it’s part of an intentional décor.

If you don’t receive a card from my address – please know I AM thinking of you – and wish you the very best holiday season! May all your wishes and dreams be fulfilled – that your heart is full of love, your home full of happiness…To my family, I miss you more than you know. To my friends, I wish I could stretch the seconds, minutes and hours on the clock so I could spend more time.

As for now, I’m skipping my cosmos…sipping a decadent residual: making my next list…clean out the attic.