Having spent much of 2018 half-assing this planner thing I was fully prepared, throughout the month of December, to abandon the experiment in 2019. After all, I reasoned, these new good habits are mine and I’ve been holding myself accountable long enough now that I don’t need to see it written down on a piece of paper to keep plugging away, right?
(Insert footage of me frantically finishing blog posts late the night before or early the morning of)
Clearly a calendar-type buddy had become a requirement to my process. But! I am also allergic to change and so needed something that was more or less exactly what I already had, only with blank pages and the correct dates.
Fun fact: that is not a thing in the world of planners. Designs change every year, and Other People like shit that is not what I like, and apparently their way of doing things is popular enough that tools to suit their needs are abundant and cute whereas my stuff is such an afterthought it either didn’t merit printing or came only in one size.
Enter Husband, who really is just the best at everything.
HIM: (already breaking out in a Retail Rash) Okay, so what’s wrong with this one?
ME: (sighs) I mean… yeah, that’s fine. (reaches for horrible planner)
HIM: No, I just want to understand what’s wrong with it.
ME: Okay, well… I mean, the month part is fine, but then it doesn’t have the organization here (points) and the list is too short, which means I’ll be tricking myself into thinking I’ve done good when really I’m not…
ME: And then over on the rest of it… I need to see the whole week at a glance, not each day. I don’t know who that’s for, but it’s not me. If my day is that packed, I need my phone, not a giant fucking book that’s gonna get left somewhere.
HIM: Okay. So… What if you got these pages and this… and some of these…
ME: I’m not making one. That’s crazy. And it costs more.
HIM: I’d rather spend $100 on something you’ll actually use than $30 on something you won’t.
ME: Well I’m not spending $100, that’s insane.
HIM: (raises eyebrow)
ME: (puts down fancy vegan leather cover)
I called in the usual reinforcements, but K was no help.
ME: (via text) What was the brand of those planners you like?
K: Something happy or happy something… I’ll check. Buying a new planner?
ME: Yes, and I hate everything.
K: Happy Planner.
ME: Ugh, I’m gonna have to MAKE one. What have you done to me?
K: Why are you making one?
ME: Because I can’t find anything in stores that doesn’t suck.
K: Even online? Their site had some cute ones.
ME: Cute, yes. But not the size I want, or the layout, or anything. Why aren’t you here to help?
K: You want me to take time off work to drive down there to put together a planner for you?
ME: Yes please!
K: LOL, that’s not how it works!
ME: (yelling) Honey! K doesn’t get it!
HIM: (cuddling Ham) Oh no, Alexander Hamilton, Mom didn’t find exactly what she wanted on her first try!
ME: (glares) Or on my fifth.
HIM: Yes, you’re right. I’m—
ME: So now we have to go to craft stores.
ME: (nods) (storms off)
And so it was at the biggest Michael’s in the whole world I found* everything for which my soul hungered. At 40% off.
And a whole drawer full of backup fluffy pens. Just in case.
That cover,** by the way, was Husband’s idea. It fits over any planner of roughly this size and can be swapped out from year to year, so no matter what there’s at least one thing that won’t be changing. Because the army taught him to plan for the next crisis.
* On the second floor. Seriously, that place is huge. I plan on going back and getting lost for a few days, starting my own civilization, and eventually taking over. We’ll become yarn pirates and it will all be very exciting for about a week; the whole thing will break down when we can’t agree on a design or even a medium for our new flag.
**Sharp-eyed readers will note the poinsettia that’s taken up residence on my desk. This is because I am a Master Fucking Gardener now, and an orchid update will follow soon.