The Sidebar
| Publication year | 2023 |
| Pages | 21 |
DEPARTMENT
THE SIDEBAR
Checklists "Я" Us
BY RON SANDGRUND
I rarely notice or complain about the effects of age on my memory because of one thing: I've always had a lousy memory. I left for college wanting to become a doctor. Two years of pre-med rote memorization courses—and not doing well in them at all—pushed me into a double major in psychology and English, where intuitive thinking and writing were emphasized.
Because of my poor memory, since I started college I have made checklist after checklist to keep track of what I needed to do and what I had finished doing. I found these checklists relaxed me by forcing me to remember only two things: to write stuff down on my checklist that I needed to remember to do, and to review the checklist every few days and check off what I had done. That was it—no dining on my digits, no sleep deprivation, and no missed deadlines. Once I developed this habit, I became Mr. Mellow overnight. (Okay, maybe I was simply feeding the obsessive-compulsive beast in me—but that's for a different column. See "Practicing Law With Blinders On," Colorado Lawyer (July 2019).) These checklists have been so freeing, so helpful to my legal practice over the years, and so good for my marriage (e.g., honey-do lists and vacation planning) that I've decided to evangelize check listing to as many readers as I can.
Of course, there's something Tantalean about checklists. You remember Monsieur Tantalus, don't you? The ancient gods punished him by imprisoning him with a gnawing hunger and thirst, but every time he reached for the grapes hanging above his head, they rose higher, and every time he stooped for the water below him, it receded. That's the seeming downside of checklists: as soon as you whittle one down, another starts to grow. But that small detail pales against avoiding constant doubt, insomnia (just leave a pad and pencil on the nightstand), and missed deadlines.
My all-time favorite birthday card says, "If you didn't know how old you were, how old would you be?" I'm not sure I would have fully appreciated the sentiment as much when I was young, but when I hit 50 (15 years ago!), it hit home. As long as I didn't look in the mirror when answering the question, my response was always "in my early 30s." Even though New Year's Eve ends for me before 10 pm (most years), and I gave up full-court basketball and dropped from 4.5 to 4.0...
To continue reading
Request your trial