Wednesday, August 31, 2011
My planner, my dictator
I think it was high school when my life started being dictated by my planner. It's safe to say that my longest relationships have been with planners, which is incredibly sad but the truth can sometimes be sad. And just like in a relationship, I'm very particular about what type of planner I need. I don't want one that's daily, I don't want one that's lined, I don't want one that's got time slots in it. I just need a blank calendar by which to fill with experiences and exploits.
That's oddly what I'm looking for in a relationship too...a blank slate. No baggage, no tricky maneuvers, no glaring hurdles from the get-go. Just someone to have an adventure with. Spontaneity is key (hence the unlined paper, full of free space to write in anything).
As Carrie Bradshaw as this all is, it's true. I think I should take this opportunity to say that I am very much like her, this fictitious Bradshaw. I don't want to be like her and in some of her more neurotic moments, I don't see myself. But then again, I kinda do. And I hate that. But what can I do about it? Not much. We see the world, and specifically New York, in a very similar way. I hope I'm not as much of a brat as she is, but regardless, I identify with her the most. (it pained me to write that)
So today, I start anew with my planner, and much like the change that I said I felt was a-coming, this is a fresh start. And as the seasons outside shift and click into their new places, so will I.