A glimpse into my uncensored thought process when buying my 2024 calendar:
Practical Me: Choose the black and white option.
Decorative Me: But this other calendar is more colorful and has whimsical drawings of plants along the borders.
Practical Me: Black and white always works. Are you sure you like plants that much? This is a 365-day commitment, you know.
Whimsical Me: You're in a rut. You should try something new besides black and white. Plus, plants are cheerful. Live a little, woman!
Practical Me: But that font on the plant calendar is ALL WRONG. I mean, it's not as bad as Papyrus or Comic Sans, but clearly, it's not going to win any typography awards. Can you emotionally commit to a bad font for 12 months?
Decorative Me: Point conceded.
Practical Me: I should note that the black border will blend nicely into your refrigerator. You won't even notice this version once it's hanging up.
Decorative Me: But isn't that too predictable? Won't you want some life and color during those doldrum months? On top of that, can you even consider this a "transition" to a "new" calendar if it looks just like last year's calendar?
Practical Me: Oh. Ooof. I hadn't considered that. (pause). Really, Robin. This is just a calendar. Just. A. Calendar. This is not a lifelong commitment.
Irrational Me: Well, technically, it's still a pretty big commitment. It is a whole year, after all. You better get this right. You're going to be dealing with this choice for 365 sequential days.
Detail-Oriented Me: Actually, try 366 days. It's a leap year, you know.
Exhausted Me: I can see you're stuck, so let's simplify things. Look here at this entirely new third calendar option for you to consider. That'll help.
Every Other Part of Me: That doesn't help at all.
Exhausted Me: I can see you're stuck, so let's simplify things. Look here at this entirely new third calendar option for you to consider. That'll help.
Every Other Part of Me: That doesn't help at all.
No comments