 |
| This isn't the planner in question :-) Photo: Melinda257 via Pixabay |
There are many obstacles to organizing. Time. Habits. Lack of confidence.
The shoulds.
You know -- I should do this or that. I should do it the way someone/everyone else does. I should be able to make this tool work.
Each of these thoughts is a great big mountain between us and our organization destination. If you've been reading these posts for a while, I hope you've found some ammunition for fighting back against the first three.
This post is about the last one.
Maybe you have some ammunition against that one, as well. As for me, I've been writing these posts for a long time but somehow, last week, I found myself running squarely into that mountainside.
The thing is, I didn't realize I'd run into the mountain. I thought I'd taken a wrong turn.
Life has been busy and so, when I missed a scheduled appointment, I blamed busyness and interruptions to the routine that kept me moving forward. To be fair, those were contributing factors.
But there was another, more insidious factor at play. It was small enough to fit into my purse and was masquerading as an ally.
My portable planner.
I don't typically have a small planner in addition to my main planner and weekly planner because, well, that's a bit redundant. But in order to stem the tide of appointment cards that are small enough to get lost in the recesses of my bag, or end up on the floor of my car, I thought I'd give it a try.
It's useful. Except when it's not. You see, in my hurry to find a cheap and easy tool, I purchased a planner where the weeks begin on a Monday. In every other planner and calendar I own, the weekly layout begins on Sunday.
I didn't realize this discrepancy until I'd already gotten the planner home. Even then, I brushed it off. I'd adjusted to this set-up in another planner a few years back and I thought I could do it again.
One might even say I should be able to do this.
But the issue here isn't whether I should or shouldn't, or even whether I can or can't. The issue is that this is the wrong tool for the job because it puts an unnecessary obstacle in my path.
It was only when I went to schedule the follow-up appointment to the one that I'd missed that I realized the sneaky role this allegedly innocent planner had played in my predicament. Only then did I hear my own voice, captured here on the page more times than I can count, telling me that if the tool didn't work, I wasn't the problem.
I simply needed another tool.
At this point, it's easy to fall prey to the sunk cost fallacy -- I'd already spent money on the planner, so I had to make it work. But the financial cost was only one potential cost, and the possibility -- or probability -- of writing down the wrong date was a cost I was unwilling to incur. I'm someone who has an I need to see it personal style, which means that how things look on the page is a key factor as to whether that view will hinder or facilitate my planning. And, honestly, I'm a bit greedy. I prefer to hold out for a tool that will go one step further: one that enhances my planning and eases my mind.
This floral traitor was not the best tool.
Within a week, I'd replaced the planner in question with a freebie whose layout was a better match for the way my mind works. Although neither planner came with an ironclad guarantee that I'll show up where I'm supposed to when I'm supposed to, the replacement planner has an edge.
Its layout makes it less likely I'll run face first into a mountainside.
