I love my daily planner. I call him Frank. Not out loud, mind you. I don’t need (more) people thinking I am nuts. But he is a Franklin Planner, so it only makes sense to call him Frank. Are you with me?
Frank runs my life. He is the keeper of my schedule, my 12 billion running lists, my weekly meal plan and basically all the things. Losing Frank would be worse than losing my wallet. It would be like losing my mind. I am convinced I would just wander the planet aimlessly were it not for Frank. I mean, how would I know I need to buy Goldfish crackers or call the orthodontist for my 6-year-old (just ugh on that one)? Answer: I would not. Because I can’t remember anything for longer than 15 seconds. Which means Frank can never be more than 15 seconds away from me. If I don’t write it down in Frank when it first pops in my head, it will disappear from my tired brain forever. This is why my family often witnesses me tearing across the house in a towel, dripping water in my wake, only to record something in Frank. I mean, why do our most brilliant ideas always have to come to us in the shower?
Frank is not especially pretty. He is a little battered, a little rough around the edges. But, like many things in life, that only makes him more dear.
While folding laundry the other day, a question popped into my head. In a fire, other than my people and my pets, what would I grab if I had 30 seconds to do so? (Because what else would one think about whilst pairing socks, right?) At first, I thought about collecting some family photos off the wall. Then I realized that most of them are in the Cloud. Somewhere. And I’m sure someone smarter than me could access them. So what was truly irreplaceable? The answer was obvious. And three-fold. It was Paw Paw (my son’s stuffed dog), my daughter’s well-loved baby blankies, and Frank. Hmmm, I guess that means Frank is kind of like my security blanket, or my comfort object. Well. Yeah, I guess he is. So be it.
Even as a kid, I loved planners. I didn’t have Frank back then, of course, but I had someone, errr, I mean, something. And I derived intense satisfaction from marking a task complete. It was almost better than actually accomplishing the task itself. Sometimes I would even write chores down after I finished them, just so I could cross them off my list. Of course, as a fully-grown human, I don’t do that any longer. Of course.
I have tried over and over to go digital with my planner. Back in the ’90s, I was the proud owner of a Palm Pilot. Yes, seriously. I think that qualifies me as some sort of digital-organizer pioneer. I also used a Blackberry, and, most recently, the Cozi app. Plus a healthy handful of other technological innovations meant to straighten out my schedule and/or my life. But they all just ended up serving as backup to my handwritten notes. Turns out, I just can’t let Frank go. And, turns out, I’m okay with that.