extending the metaphor

I'm not a listmaker. I can usually keep most of what I need to do in a non-concrete list in my head; writing it down makes it feel like it's hanging over me, waiting to be done, telling me not to relax until it is. But this weekend, there was so much to do and my head is cluttered with so many other things that I caved:

ironing
call Verizon to switch account names
car re-inspected
car re-registered online
pick up dress
call K
call G
call L
L's wedding present
library books 7/15
read writing group stuff
send J's CDs
finish book review

Now the list is driving me crazy, because many of those things -- send J's CDs, Verizon, car re-inspected, library books -- can't possibly be accomplished today, and many of the things I am going to do today -- gym, get cell phone fixed, grocery shopping -- are not on the list. They are list-worthy items, errands that need to be done, I just didn't think of writing them down yesterday morning.

As I was expressing this to one of the roommates last night as we were watching HBO and eating Chinese food, two distinctly non-list activities about which I was feeling vaguely guilty, he made some reference to "getting ducks in a row," and I started thinking about ducks and how they're totally not in any kind of row. Why is getting ducks in a row a good goal? Where did that come from? And then I started imagining my ducks:

One duck is wandering around thinking about going to the beach next weekend and how it really wishes that were happening today instead of next weekend.

One duck is off by the wall stretching, wondering if trying pilates this morning for the first time is really a good idea.

One duck is trying to round up the rest of the ducks to get them in the row, thereby not being in the row himself.

One duck is sitting in the corner and facing the wall, worrying.

One duck is standing near the window to get better reception on his duck cell phone, talking to someone who can fix the mistake he made at work Friday morning that has been bothering him ever since he saw the e-mail about it last night.

One duck is leaning against the wall and finishing the biography of Gr*nny D, which he freaking loves.

One duck is considering packing up and moving to L.A. to live a life of glamour or at least work as a waitress in a cocktail bar.

One duck is actually in the row, but he's feeling deeply annoyed about how the items on the list are not written in parallel structure and fighting the urge to add verbs to the ones that don't have them.

That's eight ducks, and now I am going to the gym because the pilates duck is telling me I'm going to be late if I don't leave now. Demanding little bastard. I might throw the list in the trash on the way there…