I tried to resist, but it seems I’m not immune to the influence of others. Sure, I can pass on shots of tequila, but when it comes to stationery? That’s my Achilles’ heel.
I have an undeniable passion for paper products, office supplies, and all things notebook-related. I may have even indulged my slightly obsessive side in The Container Store, where I excitedly brandished sticky notes the size of my head. So it was only a matter of time before I succumbed to the allure of the Erin Condren Life Planner phenomenon.
What’s not to adore? Charming designs, an excuse to buy washi tape, and colorful markers? Friends promised it would revolutionize my life—bringing about organization, world peace, weight loss, and maybe even a “My Kid Is on the Honor Roll” bumper sticker, all because I decided to plan my life.
So, I bought one. I gave in. I found a stylish planner at Staples and splurged on it. Naturally, I couldn’t stop there—I picked up all the accessories: markers, dividers, stickers, and washi tape. I even scoured Pinterest for ideas on how to wield this magical, life-altering tool. I meticulously planned my color coding for each family member, only to promptly forget who belonged to which color and ended up writing everything in my daughter’s designated hue.
Then, I bought a white-out pen. But eventually, I decided that color coding was more trouble than it was worth.
I gave it my best shot. I carved out a morning to plan my week and aimed for a realistic to-do list for the week ahead. But soon enough, I set the planner aside and did whatever I pleased. My to-do list remained untouched; tasks intended for Monday got pushed to Tuesday, then Wednesday, and eventually fell off my radar altogether as I ignored that pesky planner.
“It’s life-changing!” my planner-obsessed friends would chant, their eyes glazed over from marker fumes. “Just give it a chance! You’ll become addicted to planning, just like us!”
So, I tried again. I sat down and organized some tasks, attempting to take baby steps toward a more productive life. But I soon set the planner aside yet again, only remembering it when I realized I had a doctor’s appointment scribbled in there that hadn’t made it to my phone.
Maybe I should give the life planner another shot, I mused as I placed it back on my desk. But I didn’t. It now resides at the bottom of a pile of other items on my desk.
I anticipated this outcome. This isn’t my first encounter with the enticing promises of planners and their potential for a more productive life. I’ve never managed to stick with one for an entire year. I figured that having a pricier planner, with its array of stickers and color-coded family events, wouldn’t magically turn things around.
Have I learned my lesson? Not really. But next time, instead of falling for the most expensive option, maybe I’ll make an effort to utilize the planner I already own. After all, there are still 13 months left in this planner—a whole year in which I could either master its use or let it languish as just another item in my collection. Place your bets on what’s most likely to happen.
In summary, I dove into the world of planners with high hopes, yet the reality was far from life-changing. My stylish planner sits neglected, much like the others before it. Perhaps one day, I’ll finally unlock its potential—or not.
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