It’s December. That means it’s time to shop for a new calendar.
The calendars above are my work calendars from the last four years.
You may have noticed that there are six calendars. In four years.
I am incredibly picky when it comes to calendars. If I buy one and it doesn’t work out, I discard it and buy another. Well, I don’t exactly discard it… it’s here still. I’m not sure why. Maybe there was a week I wanted to save. Maybe I thought I might go back. Maybe it was just too pretty to toss. Maybe I thought I could donate it to a poor calendar-less orphan.
My calendar has to be beautiful. Or classy. Probably both.
I need clear dates and plenty of room to write. I’m very flexible though. It can be weekly or daily. And although I prefer to start the week on a Sunday, I can live with the new stupid trend that starts the week on Monday. See how flexible?
I’ve bought calendars online. That doesn’t work. I have to feel the texture of the cover. And the paper has to be smooth. But not slippery smooth. It can be lined, but only narrow lines. It has to lie flat when opened.
It must not be too big or too heavy, since I like to take it home in my purse. But it can’t be too small either, since my handwriting is cramped enough.
And it can’t have any decoration. I love flowers but they can’t take up writing space. Don’t even talk to me about inspirational quotes. And although I love my cats like they were children from my womb (which I often pretend they are), I can’t exactly demand budget cuts with any authority if I open my calendar in a staff meeting and Richard gets a glimpse of an adorable big-eyed kitten.
It doesn’t need conversion rates from drams to ounces, but I can ignore that. Maps are nice. It gives me something to look at in boring meetings.
I will travel for miles to look at a calendar. Last year I drove thirty miles to see a calendar that I saw on the internet (but had to feel). I didn’t like it. I went home. The next week I went thirty miles in the other direction. I found one I rather liked, but I didn’t buy it. I wanted to see everything else first.
So after two more weeks of shopping, I decided on the one I saw in the second thirty-mile trip. But I made the drive back only to find my choice was sold out, so I ended up ordering it online after all. But I had felt it first, so I was okay.
It has worked out quite well. So I might order the exact same one again. But I want to shop around first. I might find something better. I’m gassing up the car.
I’m not sure how I got this fussy. After all, it’s only a matter of time before it looks like this: