The Day-Planner Debate

So, after many moons of no guest posts, I finally have another one for you! This one is written by my bloggy friend and she sent it to me in December, but my laptop wouldn’t update, so it has taken a little while to get this one published. It would be great if you could transport yourself back a couple of weeks while you read this post 😉 please and thank you. 

Oh hello there. This post is way overdue, given that I spoke to Kendel like eons ago. But better late than never and also, I have tonnes of work left to do as a result of switching jobs and taking on more work than I can handle but hey, what better time to write than now?

It’s mid December, I’m already broke and I am flying out on “vacation” next week. End of the year usually means a couple of things for me. In no particular order:

  • It’s my birthday [along with my mum’s step dad’s, sister’s and now ex-roomie’s];
  • Too many things tend to happen at once, possibly because everyone and all gifts are wrapping up, I don’t know;
  • I tend to quit my job (like last year!);
  • It’s time for introspection and feeling miserable all the time;
  • It’s day planner shopping time for the following year [followed by manually copying down information needed for the year ahead].

Let’s dwell on the last point for a moment shall we?

I’ve been using a planner for nearly eight years now, since my (almost) late teenage years. It was first an object of fascination and all things fancy that later moved on to a handbag essential, like now. I still recall having once LEFT my day-planner while on vacation in India with another friend. The very kind shopkeeper had gone through it found our hotel details and called us. It had train tickets, bus tickets, hotel bookings and basically our entire vacation written there. Yes, I can imagine life without food but not without my planner. Also, I’m deep like that.

Hence, it is understatement when I say that my day planner plays an integral part of my life. Similarly, it is always exciting when it comes to shopping for one. This year, since I’ve been spending far too much on fancy, shiny things I could’ve bought for lesser, I was willing to spend an equally hefty amount on my day-planner. Mostly because over the years I’ve realised a good quality day planner means that you have a presentable day planner by the end of the year. But alas, I was disappointed. Perhaps the lack of options in the country made me settle for the same planner I’ve been using this year. Don’t get me wrong, it’s pretty good and sturdy and still looks very presentable. But I just wanted something well, red leather. Sigh. My four-figure planner budget was shot down to three upon purchasing the new one. Yay on the savings I suppose.

If you are the sort who use day planners, I’m sure you are familiar with the process of transferring this year’s information over to the next. Of the many things I take forward to the next year, are birthdays. Yes, I’m big on wishing and buying gifts for birthdays. I’m not a birthday baby myself and prefer an overly quiet birthday for myself. But not everyone is as weird as I am.

If you do “collect” birth-dates as I do, you would know that as the year rolls by, you add to the list. I mean, no matter how socially awkward I am, I invariably do make friends over the course of the year. However, what’s interesting is when you mentally decide on striking out names and birthdays in the information transferring process. It’s not as though we stopped being friends, just that I don’t know, you stopped talking and I got awkward and you are now not getting a birthday present. However, I do always keep birthdays of my exes. Most (not all) and I are in very good talking terms and it’s always nice to call them up and wish them on their birthdays. I mean, there are those instances where I still remember that one ex’s mother’s, father’s, sister’s, sister-in-law’s and cat’s birthdays. Sucks to be me I tell you.

Now that the my invaluable pieces of information have been said and the much needed break from work has been taken, I go back to living the life of a non-corporate slut. Merry Christmas to all of you babies 🙂


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