On Plans, the wonderful, janky, unofficial social networking website of my undergrad school, a tradition of writing to-do lists has emerged over the last few years, spearheaded by my friend Rachel. The catch, and the part that Rachel pioneered, is this: You don't just write a to-do list. You write a done, bitches list.
What is a done, bitches list? As far as I can tell, it's kind of like a to-do list, except that (a) it's written with as much vulgarity as possible, and (b) completed items are marked off by writing "done, bitches" or similar.
I've never been entirely comfortable with the name. Who are these supposed "bitches"? Other people on Plans? Mysterious bogeymen who are out to sabotage my ability to accomplish a list of tasks? I don't like referring to the first group that way, and I don't believe in the existence of the latter. I asked about this on Plans, and my friend Shelly said that she took it to mean the haters. "Except," she said, "yours would be totally non-existent because you're objectively awesome." Aw, thanks!
Someone else wrote, "I like to think of the collective "bitches" as "people" (in which case you have to mentally remove the negative connotations), as in, "Let's go to happy hour, bitches!" These are people who celebrate you, celebrate with you, and are completely supportive when you get shit done." Well, I like the sound of that. I'm still not wild about the word, but it has a certain ring to it that other words just can't replace. Why else would Bitch have chosen it as the title of their magazine?
Anyway, because Alex oniugnip and I are leaving for Barcelona tomorrow, I had a lot to get done today -- so much to get done that the occasion called for making my first ever Done, Bitches list on Plans. I got lots of cheering and encouragement from veterans of the Done, Bitches school of time management, and I have to say that that helped me get through the list. In fact, it helped so much that I'm daring to make my list public, in hopes that someone else will try the Done, Bitches technique and benefit from it. Here's what I ended up with at the end of the day:
- Print and put up like 30 goddamn flyers: PRINTED AND POSTED, BITCHES
- Read over long-ass wedding venue rental contract and email wedding venue contact person about stuff: TOTALLY DONE BEFORE 8:30AM, BITCHES
- Drop off the goddamn rent check: DONE, BITCHES
- Plane tickets to the motherfucking Bay Area for Alex and me: PURCHASED
- Do the fucking "composability" part of the proof I'm working on: HARD PART'S OVER, BITCHES
- Do some goddamn work on the "bridge lemma" part of the proof: STARTED IT
- Send badass status report email to my advisor: BAM, SENT THAT FUCKER
- Call the motherfucking bank: DONE, BITCHES
- Make a motherfucking awesome dinner, using up as many perishable items as humanly fucking possible: DONE AND DONE
- Go for a motherfucking run
- Pack a fucking suitcase for fucking Barcelona (damn!)
Fuck yeah! Nine of eleven items done, bitches! The last two I'm putting off until tomorrow, since tomorrow I'm getting up at four in the motherfucking morning anyway as a way of forcing myself onto Barcelona time, so I need to go the fuck to bed.