In an effort to resist societal pressure, I failed miserably. While I can deftly dodge tequila shots, my weakness lies in stationery. I have an undeniable affinity for paper products, office supplies, notebooks, and everything related. My obsession was perhaps most evident when I excitedly paraded around The Container Store, clutching oversized sticky notes, much to my husband’s amusement. Eventually, I succumbed to the allure of the Erin Condren Life Planners.
What’s not to love? Adorable designs, an excuse to buy washi tape, and an array of colorful markers come with the promise from friends that this planner will revolutionize my life. They assured me that I would finally achieve organization, experience world peace, shed some pounds, and even earn a “My Kid is on the Honor Roll” bumper sticker—all by simply planning my life.
So, I bought one. I relented under pressure, splurging at Staples for a planner that was far too pricey. I didn’t stop there; I also acquired all the necessary accessories—markers, dividers, stickers, and washi tape. I perused Pinterest for tips on maximizing this supposedly transformative tool. I even devised a color-coding system for my family, only to promptly forget who belonged to which color, leading me to write everything in my daughter’s designated shade.
After purchasing a white-out pen, I quickly decided that abandoning the color-coding scheme was the way to go. I gave it my best shot one morning, setting aside time to map out my week with a modest to-do list. However, as soon as I closed the planner, I lost all motivation and reverted to whatever whim struck me. Tasks meant for Monday were pushed to Tuesday, then Wednesday, only to be forgotten entirely as I avoided the planner altogether.
“But it’s life-changing,” my planner-obsessed friends would chant, their eyes glazed over from marker fumes and washi tape addiction. “Just give it a chance! You’ll love it! You won’t be able to live without it! You’ll be just as hooked on planning as we are!”
Determined, I attempted again. I settled down to organize my life into manageable segments, taking baby steps toward productivity. Yet, the planner soon slipped out of my mind again, only to be remembered when I realized I had a doctor’s appointment noted within its pages.
I thought about giving the life planner another shot, but instead, I let it languish on my desk, buried beneath a pile of other neglected items. I had anticipated this outcome; I’ve been drawn in by the enchanting promises of planners before, and I’ve never made it through an entire year with one. The belief that a pricier planner would somehow transform my productivity was naïve.
Have I learned my lesson? Not exactly. Perhaps next time I’ll forgo the temptation of the most expensive option and try to utilize one of the planners I already own. After all, there are still 13 months left in this one, 13 months during which I can either master its use or continue letting it serve as the foundation for my stack of notebooks. Place your bets on which scenario is more likely.
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Summary:
The author humorously reflects on their failed attempts to use a pricey planner, highlighting the allure of stationery and the pressure from friends to become organized. Despite multiple efforts to embrace the planner lifestyle, they find themselves still disorganized, ultimately questioning if they will ever learn to use it effectively.
Keyphrase: Expensive planner disorganization
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