Jan
25
Organized Chaos, Part 1
Filed Under Organization
Part 1
While the baby sleeps, I am busy adding album art to music in iTunes. Truly a twenty-first century problem if ever there was one. This one of the nagging little projects that tend to eat up my free time. I have several, all of which are about as useful as linking little pictures of album covers to MP3 files.
I’ve been this way for as long as I can remember. And this has lead me down a path looking for the perfect organizational solution. This is a long path. A sad path. Consider yourself warned.
Before I begin, I should note that I have never had an issue staying organized at work. I’ve always been able to keep my priorities in line with rather simple lists. This obsession with productivity applies only to my own pet projects. There is probably a lesson in that. But I have no time for lessons right now.
The Pre-Digital Days
It all started my first day of high school. It’s not often that one can pinpoint the exact moment of downfall, so I like to remember this. In homeroom, 8:21 am on August 29, 1989, I was handed the ECHO: Edgewood something Homework Organizer. This was a small, spiral-bound notebook where we could write down our homework assignments. When I think about it now, it seems like a pretty good idea. Have you ever tried to get a fourteen year old to do anything? Imagine trying to make a couple hundred of them take ownership of their own educations.
I used the ECHO for two days.
This really wasn’t an issue. I was a pretty orderly kid and never had much of a problem keeping my homework in line. This freed up plenty of time to work on my mullet.
Before I left for college, my stepmother gave me a Franklin Planner. It was the best thing ever. Being away from home, I suddenly had a need for an address book. And a real calendar. And there was lots more homework. Lots. This was the big shock of college I never quite got over.
I used the Franklin Planner all the way through college and into my first real job. Over time, I strayed from the Franklin methodology and used only monthly calendars, address pages, and blank paper. Blank paper was for lists, and I loved me some lists.
CDs to buy, books to read, places to visit, bills to pay, Things Never to Drink Again. You name it, and I had a list for it. To some, this may have been a cry for help from an unfulfilling job and vastly empty social life. To me, it was an intricate system of knobs and switches by which I could control my life. In fact, I used to really enjoy sitting down and rewriting all my lists–almost as much as marking completed items off a list.
By 2000, it was time to move up in technology. I’d been working in the IT industry for a couple of years and it was high time my red-Ford-Ranger-driving bad self went digital.
Handheld
Well versed in my affliction, my mother gave me an electronic organizer for Christmas. An eight megabyte Handspring Visor. This was the new best thing ever. My contacts, my appointments, even my precious lists were all there in grayscale glory. Passwords we secure! Not to mention solitaire games and e-books. Without this little device, I probably wold not have found Cory Doctorow when I did.
Truly, this was an enlightened time. Tinkering with my lists became even more fun. This was a good couple of years. And I ruined it by getting greedy.
In 2002, I went back to school. I noticed a lot of folks were carrying Windows Mobile PDAs. Color screens, wireless web browsing, Excel. Excel! I decided it was time to upgrade. Credit card debt notwithstanding, I ordered a Dell Axim post-haste. It was the new best thing ever.
For about two weeks.
To this day, I can’t really pinpoint the problem with the Axim. I see it in its tomb (a box at the top of the closet) occasionally and feel shame. Sure, it was clunky. Sure, Windows Mobile crashed all the time. Sure, the interface was counter-intuitive. But I still feel that I was the one who failed here. I could have tried a little harder to make things work out.
Finishing my MBA, I treated myself to a new Franklin planner. Now, Franklin Covey. Sleek, black leather. I immediately set about making my lists all over again. But something wasn’t right. It felt contrived. I’d been touched by digital convenience and wasn’t sure if I’d be able to go back.
Back to Basics
Fortunately, my organizational chaos did not toss me down the dark chasm of despair. By this time, I had a fiance and didn’t need these little lists and projects to prop me up. Thankfully, this woman was patient enough to let me figure this out and is understanding enough to allow me pointless projects.
So I went on for a year or so making my little lists. I was faking it, but it didn’t really matter.
After we were married, I bought a Mac–first one since college–and all was good. I kept my calendar in iCal, my addresses in Address Book. I typed up my lists and printed them out onto pages for my Franklin (Covey) Planner. And I began to think, “You know, it would be neat to somehow keep all these things digital…”
And so goes the cycle. Tune in next time for more hot handheld action, a resurgence of Luddite methodology, and the possible return of our hero to something like sanity.
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2 Responses to “Organized Chaos, Part 1”
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I found your site on technorati and read a few of your other posts. Keep up the good work. I just added your RSS feed to my Google News Reader. Looking forward to reading more from you.
Aaron Wakling
Thanks, Aaron. You’re quite prolific on the topic of personal credit. We hear a lot in the news these days about the credit industry. It’s good to see someone as an advocate for personal responsibility in borrowing. You’ve posted a lot of useful information.