It is summer vacation and I've been making plans. Plans for camping, plans for trips, plans for activities, plans for the beach, plans for cooking out, plans for bowling, plans to visit grandparents, plans for (deep breath) vacation bible school, plans for bike rides, plans for amusement parks and plans for playdates. There are so many plans and so much time, two and a half months feels like a lot of time on the first day of summer vacation.
Let me start out by saying that I have all the tools I need to be organized. I have a datebook - I got it for tracking the bills I pay and to put papers in that I need to hang on to so they don't get lost. Like the traffic ticket I got for ignoring a "No U Turn" sign and got slapped with a $410 ticket by a guy cop who didn't fall for what I thought was batting my eyes and smiling my sweetest smile. Surprising to me because it seemed to work wonders in my 20's.
I also have a wall calendar that I write down appointments and weekend events on. What days the husband is on call and what nights he will work late. I even put school events on this calendar so that when the kiddies looks at the calendar, they can see what fun event we are going to hit tonight, International potluck or ice cream social! The best part of the wall calendar is the birthdays. I like to put the cousins' birthdays and the relatives' birthdays, the kiddies get a kick out of seeing their birthday up in writing.
Finally I have an android phone that has a fabulous scheduler thing on it, I believe it is called an "app" and it allows me to put all my events and activities down in one place so that my life is streamlined and seamless. It wins the prize as the best phone I have ever had, hands down.
And yet, with all this technology and all these calendars and all these day planners my life is a scattered and confusing labyrinth of double booked appointments and play dates, two picnics on the same day and camping trips that fall on weekend trips to Los Angeles for my friend's birthday. It is a nightmare sometimes and instead of getting better, it seems to get worse and worse. And so I have come to a very serious decision:
I need a personal assistant.