tallulah bankhead once said, "only good girls keep diaries. bad girls don't have time."
good or bad, i like to keep a record. something concrete to confirm that indeed, time is passing. a catalog of sorts, to remind me of all i've accomplished. let's face it, some days pass and you'd never know it if there wasn't something, somewhere to tell you what it was that you did.
and the calendar is a way to remember what the heck it is that you're supposed to be doing...dentist, doctor, return library books, call so-and-so, go here, meet this person...
as i sit here in my work-a-day cubicle there are no less than four calendars and i use each and every one of them.
***a vintage barbie wall calendar
***a desk calendar featuring vintage images gifted to me from my dear friend becky
***a personal journal/desk calendar i use as a diary of sorts
***an electronic calendar that is tied to my office e-mail
at home we have two page-a-day calendars in the bathroom (jeopardy and a weird word game one) and on the fridge hangs a vintage travel poster calendar.
there's a scene in the movie, grand canyon, where a mom is sitting on her bed and she is surrounded by piles of calendars. she's in the process of writing everything onto one large posterboard sized calendar, color coordinating and jotting and referring back and forth. a nightmare? to me, blissful minute organizing is a dream.
oh, and on saturday morning? i'm taking a class to make a personalized calendar.
have i crossed over the line? o.c.d.? or do eight calendars constitute a collection?