I am disorganised. So I need a diary. Being too mean to buy more of those very expensive Filofax pages, at the beginning of the year I bought a page-a-day diary. Quite a nice one. So far so good.
But it doesn't work. It's no good looking at one page at a time, because you (or I) need to see that day in the context of the whole month. I need to see all the things that are happening around it, so that if there are clusters of things all happening close together, then I know that that is not the time to invite twenty people to dinner or re-carpet the stairs. Furthermore, I need to see it all up on the wall, clearly, staring at me, challenging me to forget an appointment or a birthday.
So today I went shopping for a calendar. Not easy in March, as I discovered, but I finally ran one to ground in a card shop. I had a choice of Vintage Transport or Warplanes (I would have preferred plain, but never mind). So I now have a Vintage Transport calendar hanging above my desk (complete with March picture - a "1908 Vulcan Roi des Belges", no less - which looks like a cross between a Tesco trolley and a pushchair), and inefficiency will be a thing of the past.
(Apologies to anyone who has managed to get to the end of this exceptionally boring post. All I can say it that you were warned. But I'm currently suffering from a form of writer's block (see post below) and buying calendars and writing about them beats doing housework.)
Showing posts with label calendars. Show all posts
Showing posts with label calendars. Show all posts
Wednesday, 23 March 2011
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)