Death of a List
Every semester, throughout four years of university, I have created a List of Death. The list is a chronological ordering of my assignments in each class - labelled with their value in determining the final mark for their respective courses.
The lists have, all in all, been a real boon for me, organizationally. It is easier to prioritize when the remaining work sits there in front of you, and helpful too, when noticing you have a week with no assignments due, for pointing out that 2 weeks hence, you have 3 essays and a programming assignment in rapid succession.
Where the lists have been a boon organisationally though, they have been a locus of hatred as well. Each list represents the list of reasons why I can't play with my own projects on a given night. Each list is a reason I shouldn't sleep in on the weekends. Understand that I keep this list taped to my shelf, above my desk, so that it is there always. Understand that each time I can, with shaky hands, cross off a line with permanent marker, a shiver of joy runs down my back. Understand then, that this list has been at once my best friend and worst enemy.
I have loved my time at university, and I have genuinely enjoyed the assignments I've worked on. I do not do the following out of a need to express displeasure with any part of the university experience. But there's nevertheless something imprinted in our shared cultural heritage that to burn something like this is a cleansing process, it's cathartic, and you have no idea how thoroughly I enjoyed it.
With this background in mind, you are now equipped to appreciate my short photo essay: Death of a List.
9. This piece I'll keep.