Bucket Lists, Or Why You Should Never Make Them

When I was sixteen, I made a bucket list. It was (get this), inspired by:

THIS movie.

I suppose when you're a teen in the early '00s there was nothing better than a Nicholas Sparks book-turned-movie.

While sorting through my old journals (which, yes, I keep all of them and they have perservered through the many moves I have gone through since leaving home), I found this list. The range of my teenage goals quickly goes from the attainable ("Live in a foreign country") to the ridiculous ("Win a Pulitzer, Academy Award, Tony Award & Nobel Prize").

At the time I composed the list, all the goals seemed unattainable. Being able to cross off a few felt good. But, I couldn't help but feel the silent judging of my teenage counterpart. Early on in the list are things like "Get married before twenty-six" or "Be your collegiate valedictorian." Really? Thanks, teenage Leni.

So, with the crushing humiliation of disappointing my former self, I made a new list--adjusting it to reflect current goals and past goals that I view attainable. And while I will continue to save the original bucket list (*fingers crossed for that Nobel Prize*), I feel that the current one is more realistic, and affords me to ability to cross more things off.

And in the end, is there anything more satisfying than scribbling out goals attained?

I think not.

Love and to-do-lists,

Unattainable Leni