Carolyn
Hiler
is a fine artist and art therapist, born and raised
in New York and currently living in Los Angeles. She
is a licensed marriage and family therapist who works
at a school for emotionally disturbed children and
teens.
Her comics have been published locally and her fiction
has appeared in the online journal collected
stories.
To Do List - Week of March 14th
Carolyn Hiler
Monday
- Wear something cheerful. Not the dismal black
sweater with all the pills on the sleeves that you always wear 'cause
it's "comfortable" and you don't like to stand out. Black
is dreary and doesn't look good on you.
- Drink banana-flavored Zone shake for breakfast.
- On your way to work, think only positive thoughts.
Try to recapture the feelings you had on vacation with your friend
Ellen last summer, hearing the waves lapping against the rental
home, the gulls with their bird cries saying Charlene, this is your
life, the clear blue sky is harmless and open! Think about how strange
you felt when you heard those birds, free and hopeful in a way you
never experience in your life now. But don't think about that part,
how you never feel that way now.
- Do some yoga stretches before work. Don't let
the small size of your apartment deter you. Squeeze yourself onto
that strip of carpet between the couch and the front door.
- Do your yoga stretches in the car if you wake
up late and hardly have time to put on your makeup or fix your lunch.
- Do your yoga stretches at work, with the door
closed, if you wake up really late, without enough time to put on
makeup or dry your hair, and as a result have to run out of the
door forgetting your tuna lunch in the Tupperware and looking like
a drowned rat, with no choice but to apply your makeup in the car
at stop lights and attempt to dry your hair by leaning sideways
over the steering wheel with the car heater on full blast, resulting
in ropy hair all day no matter how much you brush it.
- Don't worry about the yoga stretches at work
if you become self-conscious about closing your door and the vibe
just isn't right. Getting all stressed out about yoga defeats the
purpose.
- When you answer the calls, try not to use that
sing-songy voice.
- File the reports with a sophisticated air. Allow
yourself to be mysterious.
- Stop talking when you notice others nodding
off.
- Create a puzzle for yourself. How many words
you can make from the word flower? Write them all down. Flow. Low.
Ow. Elf.
- Slap the men on the back when you greet them.
- Write down your accomplishments in a spiral
notebook you keep in your desk drawer underneath the sour-cream-and-cheddar
rice cakes. 1. Put gas in the car. 2. Got to work. 3. Didn't yell!
- Ignore Janice McDougal and Dana Carnsworth from
Marketing when it looks like they're laughing at you. Look the other
way with your nose up in the air. Or stare at one of the lapels
on Dana's jacket with a strange expression, as if you see something
horrible. And then cover your mouth in shock.
- Find out who stole the company gift pen you
received last Christmas. Write down the names of people who look
suspicious or guilty.
- Take your boss Gene's name off the list. He
only writes with a Shaeffer fountain pen.
- At the special events committee meeting, blow
up as many balloons as you can.
- Don't think about anything uncomfortable or
saddening on the way home from work, especially when you pass by
Cresper Street. Don't think about how the route to George's house
is so burned into your kinesthetic memory that you could turn your
steering wheel automatically with your eyes closed and get yourself
perfectly into his driveway without running into anyone's house
or dog house. Don't think about George's dog, George Jr., and how
you can still feel his furry face in your hands and smell his bad
breath.
- Instead, think about how the sun looks orange
on the mountains, and about how some people pay a lot of money to
visit this city that you're lucky enough to live in.
- Return Mrs. Gerlack's call after work. She probably
wants to know if you can baby-sit her cats when she's on vacation
in Barstow. Tell her of course, you love cats. Then start to feel
nervous about whether or not your apartment is presentable enough
for Mrs. Gerlack's cats. Spruce up your apartment. Throw away the
giant panda costume that's been sitting in the hallway since Halloween,
when you tried to scare all the trick-or-treaters in your apartment
building. For God's sake, it's March! Get rid of it already!
- Begin to shriek when you open the catalog and
see your high school friend Jane.
- Eat the leftover Chinese food from Happy Bowl
for dinner.
- Commit to decreasing your water usage.
- Recall the taste of Aspergum before you fall
asleep, how it was supposed to be taken for headaches or fever like
aspirin but you loved the chalky orange taste and chewed it for
no reason. Wonder if they still make Aspergum, and where it's sold.
Decide that they probably don't make it anymore because too many
kids chewed it like you did, and maybe one of them died. Feel grateful
to the Food and Drug Administration for regulating dangerous substances.
Tuesday
- Wear periwinkle. According to Color Me Beautiful,
periwinkle is a "universal" color that looks good on everyone,
a Summer, Winter, Fall, or a Spring, like you. Wear khaki if the
only periwinkle thing you own is a dish towel.
- Do twenty-five crunches on the slip of carpet
between the couch and the door.
- Do the crunches later, when you're feeling better,
if your stomach feels funny from the Chinese food.
- Take the tuna to work today. It's about to go
bad. Isn't that some sort of national thing-Take Your Tuna To Work
Day?
- Greet your colleagues with spunk.
- Carry around your copy of Who Moved My Cheese?
Take notes to impress your boss Gene. Bring up some points from
the book in the next staff meeting, and look through your wire-rimmed
glasses at Janice McDougal and Dana Carnsworth, who aren't even
paying attention and whispering about something completely different,
you can tell.
- Learn to forge signatures.
- Tell at least one person today, "That's
ridiculous!"
- Locate everyone's personal mission statements
in the confidential files, and rewrite them.
- Try to hide your glee when you discover Mark
Henderson staring at you in the cafeteria. Remember that Mark is
known to be something of a "womanizer," a "casanova,"
a "ladies' man." Take on a parental role as you talk to
yourself about it, or what you imagine a parental role might be,
since your parents were very preoccupied with making each other
miserable when you were in the tender formative dating years and
going out with losers like John DeFuente, who tried to make you
cry for no reason, except maybe that he actually hated himself deep
down inside and the only way he could feel better was by saying
things like "You look like a slut!" or "My friend
Kevin thinks you're ugly," to people he supposedly cared about,
like his girlfriend.
- Put your ideas on the back burner.
- Think only pleasant thoughts on the drive home
from work, especially when you pass by Cresper Street. Consider
how in the future you might run into George and George Jr. in Union
Park when you are out jogging with Mark Henderson and the golden
retriever the two of you might pick out shortly after you move in
with him. The dog's name could be Kenny. Or Vince.
- Use Eeyore's voice, from Winnie the Pooh, when
speaking to the phone solicitor.
- Write at least one letter to that guy in jail,
like you promised.
- Crave something salty. Search the kitchen looking
for chips or pretzels. After a moment of pause, go with sardines.
- Make an escape plan.
Wednesday
- Wear pink to create an aura of femininity and
mystique. If necessary, off-white will do.
- Retain the positive feeling from your dream,
in which your uncle unfortunately passed away but fortunately left
you a castle in Germany, which was actually some kind of college
but without any students, and the food was prepared by a cafeteria
staff of very polite ex-cons who were political prisoners with off-the-charts
personal integrity and sensational operatic voices demonstrated
in their performance of Puccini's Turandot. Think about how
your bedroom in the castle had an enormous Chinese rug on the floor,
that made you feel rich, not materialistically but in some other
way, just like the rug in your uncle's house in Massapequa.
- Use the last of your mint floss.
- Meditate on the temporal nature of reality,
while sitting on a pillow on the strip of carpet between the couch
and the door. Just as this Journey poster is here today, but won't
be here tomorrow, so too will my own life pass away, and so will
Mark Henderson's, and Janice McDougal's and Dana Carnsworth's lives,
and my stupid high school boyfriend John DeFuente's life, and not
a moment too soon. Amen.
- Sing along with the radio on your way to work,
even though there's really no music and it's just "Wake Up
With Ben and Dave," with Dave ranting about some hot babe at
the drive-thru.
- Consider applying makeup before using the drive-thru.
- Get a paper cut when opening the mail. Suck
your index finger momentarily.
- Repress your envy when your boss Gene compliments
Janice on the "stick-to-it-ive-ness" she demonstrated
on the state contracts project.
- Resolve to improve your own "stick-to-it-ive-ness."
- Call Mark Henderson at home to find out why
he's absent from work. Leave a message on his machine.
- Fire your pistol into the crowd. Or leave it
at home, since it only shoots water and the weather's been chilly
enough these days.
- Dedicate yourself to protecting the innocent
from the corruption of popular culture.
- Design new stationery & envelopes.
- Think only about nice things on your way home
from work. The way the roads smell after it rains. How elegant Mark
Henderson's house must look on the inside. Drive by his house using
the address you got from the company directory. Notice that no one
is home.
- Wash out your Tupperware. Learn to prepare squid
the Castilian way.
- Go to your sister's house for her step-son's
party. Wear something exotic, like an Indian blouse with little
mirrors embroidered around the hem. Tell your step-nephews and nieces
that the mirrors tell the truth, that mirrors never lie, and hold
them up to their wide eyes. Raise your eyebrows and pretend there
is a flashlight under your chin. Or wear a tan sweater, for practicality.
- Surprise your loved ones with a George Foreman
Grill.
- Look up the name Mark Henderson on the Internet.
Drink red wine.
- Ignore all your detractors. They are simply
jealous.
- Collapse onto your twin bed in exhaustion.
Thursday
- Wear a bright color, like tangerine or turquoise.
If the closest thing you have is a very pale blue, really more like
gray, that's fine too.
- Forego the meditation or exercise. You're too
tired!
- Discover there is nothing to eat for breakfast.
Become disgusted at how little cereal is in a regular-sized box,
and visualize the empty box falling end over end from your fourth
floor window, smashing into smithereens as it hits the ground. Eat
saltines.
- Think about only positive things on the way
to work. That TV show from last night. The TV show from the night
before.
- Call Mark Henderson to find out why he's not
at work again today. Leave a message on his machine. Mention that
you liked what he was wearing yesterday. Remember after you hang
up that he wasn't at work yesterday so you didn't see what he was
wearing. Leave another message clarifying the situation.
- Notice spots on your hands. Consider when they
emerged, and how there must be some mistake. You're not old enough
for spots.
- Excuse yourself frequently when moving through
a crowd.
- Play that word game. Mesmerize. Rise. Seem.
See. Mere.
- Laugh uproariously at Dana Carnsworth's joke,
so hard that you start to cry, and then just keep crying and crying,
until people gradually leave the room. This is how you show them
your power. Don't hide your light under a bushel.
- Call Mark Henderson to find out if he's coming
to work tomorrow. Leave a message on his machine. Mention that you'd
like to see what the inside of his house looks like. Describe how
you picture it, the tastefully framed photos of the Greek Isles,
the room with the cream carpeted walls. Give your name again. Charlene.
- Jeopardy. Pare. Dare. Dope. Drop. Parody.
- Think about only nice things on your way home.
Not the last time you saw George Jr. or your grandmother's funeral,
or your co-worker Angela's recent nervous breakdown in the staff
room, just because the copier said "Low Toner." Don't
think about how you feel when the copier says "Low Toner."
- No. Think about nice things. Like fresh flowers,
even if you haven't gotten them for a while. And fresh asparagus.
Don't think about how the asparagus in your fridge must be wilting
by now, or about the lettuce, or how slimy lettuce looks when it
goes bad, how it would taste if you were forced to eat it, sour
and sharp and sliding all over your tongue. Pull the car over and
spit, to get the taste out of your mouth.
- Blur your eyes on purpose when looking at the
mail.
- Return Mrs. Gerlack's call. Learn that her cats
have come down with a cold. Try to persuade her that you don't mind.
Insist upon seeing the cats. Become tearful when she says no. Cause
Mrs. Gerlack to hang up the phone on you.
- Dye your hair burgundy. Decide that it looks
wrong, all wrong. Try again with red. Then bleach. Then cut it off.
- Find those little pills you stashed in your
underwear drawer. Pour them into your hand and look at them. Put
them back in their amber plastic container.
Friday
- Wear black, even if it's not clean.
- Keep denying that you had any involvement.
- Confuse others with frequent repetition. No.
No. No. No. Sorry. No.
- Let the anxiety build about the lie-detector
test. Shield your eyes from the glare.
- Make predictions about rainfall.
- Promise to find all the lost files. All the
lost lunches. Swear that you will, swear on your life.
- Steal the tape when no one is looking.
- Press erase.
© 2005 Carolyn Hiler
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