People assume that because I carry a planner and blog about being organized, I must have my act together.
They couldn't be more wrong.
This morning, I forgot to feed Loki and Ander breakfast. I stepped on (and thought I had crushed) my husband's eye glasses. I couldn't find my wedding ring. (No worries. I found it under a mountain of Halloween candy. Come on, do you think I would admit that I lost it on a blog that my husband reads?!?)
Add in the almost wreck on the interstate, the bleeding lip (mine...don't ask), and The Loki (who refused to get out of the car at Kindergarten drop-off), and you can see that my day was just peachy.
I hate peaches.
People don't carry planners because they do everything perfectly. They carry planners to compensate for their imperfections.
My planner reminds me that as stressful as today looks and feels, everyday this week will be worse, so I need to get some things done today (even if Louisiana is having its first cool front of the year and all I want to do is crawl under the covers in complete denial).
I gives me a place to dump all my panicky thoughts.
I forgot to buy a gift for my godchild. Wrote it in the planner.
I need to clean off the island in my kitchen so I don't lose my rings again. Wrote it in my planner.
I need to get a new script from my doctor. Wrote it in my planner.
I needed to blog. Jotted notes in my planner. Now, I'm sitting here, sipping coffee and listening to Adam Lambert sing "Mad World," and writing to you. Thanks for listening. (That thanks is dedicated to my Loyal Readers and my planner.)