I have an involved relationship with my planner. Where I go, it goes; where it goes, I go. It reigns regally in it’s spot of honor on our kitchen counter. Should it be nudged by an aggressing family member, the offense I take is immediate and egregious. The planner is not to be trifled with.
It does my thinking for me. Long sometime early college, my brain ceased capability of independent functioning. It hooked up with a pencil and a sweet 2 page-a-week Daytimer. They quickly became besties. For life. When all the other fab young minds took to smartphones for their organizational needs, my leather-bound love held tight.
Without it, I am lost. What it tells me to do, I do. When a thought enters my head, I must immediately scribble it down. I have absurdly tried tossing caution to the wind in the past, “Nah, no need to write that down. Surely I will remember to pick up dog food when I am next blowing our budget at Target.” What silly fool I am.
As stated, my brain does not function sans its trusty old-school pen and paper. It’s a relationship of mutual dependence. The thoughts go in, the actions come out, and the process repeats, each validating the existence of the other.
It works.
Except when it doesn’t.
Enter February 12, 2015.
On the top right-hand corner of the day I had written “#10” and circled it–about sixteen times.
You see, I have intricate system–honed over years with a neurotic personality. Pencil means one thing; pen another. A line-drawn-through obviously equals “done!”. Placement in the left-hand column indicates, “beg husband to do”. I save social media inspirations for the lower right side.
A circle? A head’s up to actually do it. Even worse? I never, ever put anything in the upper right-hand corner. I have no idea why, though suspect some early bartered deal between my subconscious and my planner that must be quintessential.
Yet the #10 was there. In the upper right-hand corner. And I had no idea what it meant.
I did what any modern-day mom lacking normal contact with functioning adults would do: I took to Facebook. And the suggestions were genius. An idea for a hashtag? Read it as lb. sign and it must have something to do with my weight loss goals? The number of the winner I wanted to pick in my current giveaway?
Excellent suggestions! None of them work. It has now been eleven days since that ill-marked date and I still have no clue what that #10 means.
In the dark corners of my adorable insomnia-filled nights, you can only imagine the nifty stuff I dream up–and then run by my too-thrilled husband in the morning. I’d be lying if I didn’t say I was ticked; I am–at myself. Like, dude, my life is hard enough without adding extra cryptic puzzles to the daily fun. Why would I do this to myself??
Regardless, the #10 in all its mystery remains. And while I can be endlessly miffed at myself over its ambiguity, in short, it bring us back to that too-true repetitively-preached Mom of the Year truth: give yourself grace. Lots of it. The kind of grace that hopes that #10 is a meaningless notation aimlessly scribbled in the delusional hours-on-end with whiny children. The kind of grace that acknowledges that even if this was the most important note you would write to yourself and then forget, you will somehow survive.
But mostly, the kind of grace that really, really prays that #10 didn’t even matter to begin with. Because otherwise, you’re screwed.
Second image credit: depositphotos.com, image ID:24458543, copyright:Agibalova57
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Janine Huldie says
Meredith, I do stuff like this all the time and God help me if I put something like a #10 on my calendar and then couldn’t figure it out, because I most likely would stay up half the damn before crashing still without a clue! But still this is partly why I always thank god that my head is attached to my shoulders, because otherwise I would forget and lose that, too!!
Meredith says
The attached head thing really is such a blessing…;)!
Cynthia Gabriele Sprouts Consignment Boutique says
It simply means that you need to view yourself as a #10, as in Bo Derrick!!
Meredith says
Now that is a fun way to read it! 🙂
Kathy at kissing the frog says
I not only have a planner now, but also a pad of paper that has a box for each day. This is where I write all the notes to myself.
Meredith says
I have a “supplementary planner” too! Apparently I should get yet another one though, as I still can’t keep track 😉
ksbeth says
so funny. i’ve found notes i’ve written to myself in an attempt not to forget something and then have no idea –
Meredith says
A fun way to make the day more interesting, right? 😉
WhenCrazyMeetsExhaustion says
I’m a paper and pen kind of gal myself! And I have sixteen family calendars because it would make too much sense to only have one.
Oh, and that 10 probably meant you should play the lotto with a few 10’s 😉
Meredith says
Yes! You are totally my kind of gal! Not a real house unless there are multiple planners on the scene!