If I was supposed to meet with you this week, this is why I’m not there

The other day a friend was telling the story about her computer crashing and how devastated she was to lose all her files, pictures, and music. My other friend, trying to be reasonable, said, “Well, didn’t you have it backed up?” People, this isn’t what someone wants to hear when they’re telling you they lost all their shit. What they want is all the sympathy in the world and not word one about how it could have been prevented.

On a related note, my dog, Mavis, ate my planner last weekend. She is nine-months-old and has already destroyed all my summer shoes, a dozen stuffed animals, a watch, six dog bowls, a disturbing number of underpants, eight thousand pens, and all the crayons in the world. Should I have left the planner on the dining room table? Probably not. Should I have known better than to leave her loose in the house? I guess so. Do I want to hear any of these things? No.

It felt oddly personal, her going after the planner. I’ve been on the Franklin Covey planner system since 1995, since well before I had anything to keep track of or plan beyond which five nights each week I’d go out for beers after work. Having a planner has always made me feel like I’m keeping chaos at bay and I find few things as rewarding as putting a check next to a finished task. Virgos, you know what I’m saying.

I’m trying to look at this as an opportunity to be less dependent on the planner, less structured in my time, at least until the new one arrives. It’s kind of working. Kind of not. In the meantime, I just keep reminding myself how sweet this dog is.

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She reminds me of Barney’s Hot/Crazy Scale on How I Met Your Mother, only instead of “hot” it’s “adorable.” Definitely still crazy, though.


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