I committed the most unthinkable of acts a few years ago. I marched into a local bookstore, past the pens and pencils and colorful notebook, and scooped up a little black book as if it was a trend going out of style. No, it wasn't one of those little black books. It was a date book of sorts, though. The kind of book containing a calendar of the next 14 months, with a page reserved for each day. Weekends included, of course. And come to think of it, I didn't so much as scoop it up as I gripped my hands around it ever so tightly. There was no way I was going to let go.I clung to it for dear life.
After the initial thrill of victory wore off, I sat down rather complacent, maybe even a little sluggish and hunched over. The book may have been quite little, actually, but it posed some big questions. How had my life come to this? And the more I thought about it, the more I feared: Will I end up controlling the book or will it end up controlling me?
For so many years, I had easily avoided the allure of the “life planner.” I rattled off, with eloquent ease, the same sentences any time I encountered a convert - one of those people for whom a date book is attached at the hip and a pocket protector protected, well, a pocket.
“I don't need it.”
“That's for people with memory problems - and too many activities to juggle.”
“I'm a simple girl.”
“Oh, maybe I'll get one later. Right now, I have my own system.”
And indeed, I did have my own system. Though it wasn't very scientific, it had worked for me. For years. I recorded important matters in what I called ‘The Old Thinker”: My mind. I had an uncanny knack of being able to remember every little detail, no pen or paper required.And then a pesky little thing called aging happened. Or maybe it was just that life got busier, but whatever the reason, my head couldn't take it anymore. It was about to explode, for as my father used to remark, “It's out of space on its hard drive.” I did indeed feel old and a bit depleted like a computer. It was time to either add more memory or clear the hard drive. You see, I was at a crossroads of sorts.
Maybe you'll even find yourself at the very same crossroads one day. They say that little book will make your life easier and stress-free. It promises that it will get you where you need to go, when you need to go. I suppose it's time I gave the little thing a shot and see where it takes me. Maybe you'll even do the same - if you haven't already (I don't think you're nearly as stubborn as I am). Perhaps in the end, that crossroads was fate, a signal of my date with destiny. I'm not sure. I'll have to check my little black book and get back to you.
[Photos via We Heart It]
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