I tried to resist, but it seems I’m not immune to the allure of trendy tools. Sure, I can dodge tequila shots like a pro, but when it comes to stationery? I’m a goner.
I adore all things paper—journals, sticky notes, and fancy pens. My husband can attest to my enthusiasm; he’s seen me squeal over sticky notes the size of my head during a visit to The Container Store. So, it was only a matter of time before I succumbed to the cult of high-end planners, specifically the Erin Condren Life Planner.
What’s not to drool over? Adorable designs, an excuse to buy washi tape and colorful markers? Plus, the promise from friends that this planner would not only organize my life but also lead to world peace, weight loss, and a bumper sticker proclaiming “My Kid is on the Honor Roll.” All thanks to my newfound planning prowess.
So, I caved. I went to Staples, splurged on one of these beauties, and naturally loaded up on every accessory—markers, dividers, stickers, you name it. I even scoured Pinterest for creative ways to use this so-called magical planner. I spent time color-coding tasks for my family, only to forget who was assigned which color and end up writing everything in my daughter’s designated shade.
In a moment of determination, I bought a white-out pen, then promptly decided that color coding was just too much of a hassle.
I set aside a whole morning to plan my week. I crafted a reasonable to-do list and felt optimistic about tackling it. Then, I promptly ignored the planner and did whatever I felt like, shoving my to-do list aside. Tasks meant for Monday got pushed to Tuesday, then Wednesday, until I just gave up on the planner altogether.
“But it’s life-changing!” my planner-obsessed friends would exclaim, eyes glazed over from inhaling marker fumes. “Just give it a chance! You’ll become as addicted to planning as the rest of us!”
So, I tried again. I sat down, made some more plans, and attempted to take things one baby step at a time towards a more organized life. And then, I tossed the planner aside and didn’t look at it again until I remembered a doctor’s appointment scribbled in there that I hadn’t added to my phone.
Maybe I should give the planner another shot, I thought as I pushed it aside once more.
But I didn’t. Now it’s buried under a pile of other neglected items on my desk.
I knew this would happen. This isn’t my first dance with the seductive promise of planners and their potential to revolutionize my life. I’ve never made it through a full year with any of them, and I doubt that investing in a pricier version would magically transform my organizational skills.
Have I learned my lesson? Not at all. Perhaps next time, I’ll try to utilize the planner I already have instead of being tempted by the shiniest option. After all, there are still 13 months left in this planner—13 months where I could either finally figure it out or let it continue as the foundation of my cluttered desk. Place your bets on what’s most likely to happen.
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In summary, despite my attempts at organization with a fancy planner, I remain a disorganized mess. The allure of stationery is hard to resist, but perhaps it’s time to focus on using what I already have rather than falling for the latest shiny gimmick.