This morning, for the first time in more than six weeks, I did not tip back my head and squeeze drops of medicine into my eyes. Drops are a part of many cataract surgeries, or at least they were in mine. I’ve gotten used to the routine, the slight sting that tells me the fluid has actually hit the target and is not going to run down my cheek.

Also, and more to the point of this post, I’ve grow accustomed to checking the box on the handy chart the surgeon’s office supplied. Doing this has reminded me how much I like checking boxes. It must be the sense of completion I enjoy, of “mission accomplished.” And then there’s the tidying-up, organizational aspect of it all.

Imagine the fun of ticking off a box first thing in the morning. I’m barely awake but I’ve already completed a task. It’s enough to make me coast the rest of the day.

Checking boxes makes me think I’m in control. And even though I know I’m not, sometimes it’s fun to flirt with that illusion.