My Love of Listing- or The Bucket List To End All Bucket Lists
Realising how utterly redundant my heading is, let me firstly say I have never made a bucket list before. Though I have been meaning to write one for a while now. Just to give my life some meaning. And because I like making lists. A lot. List making is one of my favourite past times. It’s got to the point where I’m making lists of things to do in the day just because I want to write a list. If ‘eat breakfast and ‘clean teeth’ are also on your list of things to do today, know that you’re up there in the big leagues of procrastination. Like me! Hurrah!
So here it is. The list to end all lists. My bucket list. Before I kick the bucket, all these things best be ticked off or this will have been a complete waste of time.
Who am I kidding. I just want an excuse to write another list.
1. Swim with manatees. Why not dolphins? Because they are the popular kids of the sea. Everyone wants to frolic with them. Manatees never get a look in. Well, not any more, unpopular manatees!! I’m a coming!
2. Live in London. Because I’m fed up of wide open spaces and driving to work. I yearn for smog and packed tube journeys.
3. Win money in Las Vegas. It doesn’t have to be the jackpot. I’d settle for $1. I’m not sure if you can bet that little, but I’m sure they’d let me if I explained this list to them.
4. Be part of a flash mob. I know it’s not cool anymore, but I’m always way behind on trends anyway.
5. Become a published author- and work within the publishing industry. This doesn’t count. I checked. It has to be a proper book that you can buy in Waterstones and get book points for.
6. Win a competition. Any competition. I don’t care what I win.
7. Own some Chanel. Proper Chanel. Not perfume. Not dubious, stained Chanel from eBay. Proper Chanel.
8. Ride in a hot air balloon. Preferably Richard Branson’s, but I’m not picky.
9. Meet somebody famous. And act totally cool. And then be their best friend. Obviously.
10. Go ice skating at the Rockefeller Centre at Christmas. Eeesh, biggest cliche ever. But it is totally necessary.