...indicating personality traits, such as meticulousness, avarice, and obstinacy...
Am I really? Can it be?
The joke goes—if the first thing you wonder when you hear it is whether it has a hyphen, then yes, you're anal-retentive.
I think that all editors, by their very nature, fit into this category. But I guess I'd like to think of myself as anal-retentive light—a third less obsessively, paintstakingly attentive than the regular, run-of-the-mill nutcase. But a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kind of girl would never, ever, ever do what I did.
I went and bought myself a Franklin Covey planner refill.
For a few years, I'd been calendar-crazed clean. When we moved from Utah - home to all things Stephen Covey (uber Mormon, btw)—I found it easier to resist those urges...to perfect my mission statement, to customize my tabs, to list my governing values,
Then it happened. One day, as I was sitting in a staff meeting, I glanced over at a colleague taking notes. And I saw it. The lined pages, sectioned off for each hour and begging to be covered with copious to-do lists. The gleam of the six silver rings, binding days, weeks, and months together in divine order. The memories came flooding back.
Oh how I longed to be reunited with my black canvas-and-tan leather, compact, zip-close lifeline. I needed those four disciplines of execution. I felt desperate to develop my seven habits and become a highly effective person. I couldn't function without it. I had to have it. I'd do anything to get my hands on a pouch pagefinder and a year of compass cards.
After three years of over-the-top organizational sobriety...I fell off the wagon.
My name is Amy. And I'm a scheduling junkie.
Am I really? Can it be?
The joke goes—if the first thing you wonder when you hear it is whether it has a hyphen, then yes, you're anal-retentive.
I think that all editors, by their very nature, fit into this category. But I guess I'd like to think of myself as anal-retentive light—a third less obsessively, paintstakingly attentive than the regular, run-of-the-mill nutcase. But a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kind of girl would never, ever, ever do what I did.
I went and bought myself a Franklin Covey planner refill.
For a few years, I'd been calendar-crazed clean. When we moved from Utah - home to all things Stephen Covey (uber Mormon, btw)—I found it easier to resist those urges...to perfect my mission statement, to customize my tabs, to list my governing values,
Then it happened. One day, as I was sitting in a staff meeting, I glanced over at a colleague taking notes. And I saw it. The lined pages, sectioned off for each hour and begging to be covered with copious to-do lists. The gleam of the six silver rings, binding days, weeks, and months together in divine order. The memories came flooding back.
Oh how I longed to be reunited with my black canvas-and-tan leather, compact, zip-close lifeline. I needed those four disciplines of execution. I felt desperate to develop my seven habits and become a highly effective person. I couldn't function without it. I had to have it. I'd do anything to get my hands on a pouch pagefinder and a year of compass cards.
After three years of over-the-top organizational sobriety...I fell off the wagon.
My name is Amy. And I'm a scheduling junkie.
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