Back in January, I made a 2025 Bingo card. A fun, vibrant way to map out my priorities and goals for the year—at least, that was the idea. Did I put any real thought into the order of the items? Absolutely not. Except for the free center square. I was smart there.
One of the first squares I filled in was “Get a new passport,” since I needed it for an April trip. (Yes, I did get it—a few weeks before I left, naturally. And of course, there was some mailing issue. Nothing in my life ever goes smoothly.) But I’ll admit—99% of my problems? I’m the reason for them.
Anyway, back to the Bingo card. I filled it with things I genuinely thought I’d knock out by June. Things I was sure I could accomplish as soon as they were written down. Five in a row. That was the goal. I even declared the “free space” wasn’t really free, because I earned it.
So why, after hitting a Bingo, do I not feel proud? Why don’t I feel that spark of accomplishment?
Because I haven’t done enough. At least, that’s how it feels.
What have I checked off? New passport, as advised; cleaned my car (thorough clean); lost ten pounds; got a massage and my nails done. I know getting a massage and my nails done may not seem Bingo-card worthy, but for me they were. I get so worked up thinking about getting them done, I don’t go. The massage was done on the cruise, and I absolutely loved it. And my nails? I got them done for the cruise and have gone back twice so far to have them done again. This is a big deal—as the lack of English and directions at a nail salon are enough to make me cry. I did grin and bear it with the last few sessions, but I feel I’m getting more comfortable each time.
I procrastinate. It’s not even always active procrastination—it’s that dangerous, sneaky kind. I spend so much time thinking about what I need to do, prepping to do it, planning out every little detail… and then I do nothing. I get stuck. Everything ends up on a list buried under unopened mail. Weeks later, I rediscover the list, only to revise it all again because life (and my mood) has changed.
But a list—a list is a beautiful thing. It takes the chaos in my brain and puts it in order. It makes the invisible visible. It turns my thoughts into something real, actionable, and measurable. If I believe a good list can lead to success, then why don’t I follow through? What’s stopping me?
What am I so afraid of?
Sometimes I wonder: is it laziness, or is it anxiety? And is calling it anxiety just a convenient excuse? Why would checking something off a to-do list give me anxiety? It seems ridiculous—but maybe it’s not. I think I need to dig into the difference between the two.
Regardless, the Bingo card still exists, and it’s time to bring it back to life. This week, I’m determined to check off another square:
Work on my blog.
So… here we are.
Elisabeth Tucker Tackles Life 
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