The (Fuck it) Bucket List

I know we’re all familiar with “The Bucket List” and how those things work.

If you’ve hung out in the blogiverse with my friends and me throughout the years, we often referred to the “Fuck it Bucket”, which basically purports giving up on whatever’s troubling you and eating candy to feel better.

Today I’m coining the phrase “Fuck it Bucket List.” Because I have one. And that is what I call it.

I have a little notebook, with one full page so far, filled with Shit I Needs to Do. Sooner rather than later. While I still have the opportunity.

I’m not talking about bungee jumping or having sex with a horse or anything like that. I mean, hell, “Eat at Ray’s (Steaks AND Hellburger)” and “Attend a Wine Cruise” are probably the most-interesting things I’ve written to date.

I guess I just realized that time is so short, y’know? I was looking at an event that takes place on Friday night at 6:15. And I immediately scoffed and thought, “Yeah, not unless I have the day off.”

And I want a dining room set (I gave away my dining-room-table fund last summer). But I’m tired of thinking, “Pfft. Maybe when I have the money again. And preferably in a different apartment. Whenever that may be.”

So, fuck it — “get a goddamned dining room set already” is on the list right after “get a new goddamned apartment!”

There are other things — get new glasses (since I JUST BROKE MINE), get a wine rack, stock up on that tasteless flaxseed oatmeal at Trader Joe’s because it’s Weight Watchers-friendly and tastes SO GOOD when spiced up, shop for computer monitors, etc.

Nothing exciting, by any means. Except for that “Passport, then Paris” note. One of these days, y’know?

Anyway, what I’m trying to do is to “love the one I’m with.” No, not the roomie — that ship has sailed. But to acknowledge that I could be much happier if I didn’t have this list of regrets that I would carry if I didn’t do these things.

I was talking to a friend recently about regrets. She has none. I admitted I would have one. I probably shouldn’t have admitted it at all. 🙂 And in the long run, I’m absolutely fine with things not happening for a reason. But stuff like not being able to go on a spur-of-the-moment / awesome-price-deal cruise because I don’t have a passport? Unforgivable.

I mean, what if during one of my world adventures, I meet the love of my life or find someone willing to pay me to never return to D.C.? Have I seen all the branches of the Smithsonian that I’ve “meant to” get around to visiting? Did I see my friends enough? (We all know the answer to that one.) Did I leave it in better shape than when I found it?


That’s why it’s a “fuck it” bucket. I’m reaching my hand in and pulling out what’s going to satisfy me. To you, it’s a Reese’s cup. But to me, it’s a Godiva truffle. And I am gonna suck the filling out of that bitch and savor every second of it. …

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