The calendar dance

If it wasn’t for Jeff Huddlestern, I might think my calendar was absolutely perfect.

I am not one of those people who alphabetizes their to-do list and writes down the content of their chest freezer.

Story_squareBut I do keep a meticulous calendar.

Finding a calendar that synched between my computer, my phone, and my tablet was perfect because I have a tendency to lose those cute paper calendars that fit in your purse or pocket. Apparently, those climb on some shelf in my office and then flatten themselves under a stack of books for about four years when they leap onto the top of my desk to announce that I’ve forgotten that dentist appointment in 2012.

My ears still sting from the piano teacher who reamed me after the fourth time in three months that I forgot to take the kids to lessons.

I’m not bitter. I’m desperate.

But these days you’d be so proud. I can log in my next lunch appointment on my smartphone while sitting at the table with my friend and I can send her an email reminder before we pay the check. When I get home, my computer calendar already knows about the next lunch date.

And here’s the best part: I can set alarms to kick me out the door for an appointment. Think military boot kicks.

So I’ve been sashaying around doing the “yeeeesssss” dance just like the football guys after a touchdown. I may not be organized but I had this.

Until Jeff Huddlestern showed up on my calendar.

And Simon Jettison and Terry Montgomery.

Who are these people?

Exactly my point. I do not know.

Why would these unknown people plant their birthdays on my calendar? I think they joined me when Corpus Christi popped up on my calendar.

But I can cope. The alerts still work. My lunch appointment is still logged in. I didn’t lose the family birthdays.

My calendar system is good but I’ve quit doing the victory sashay.

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