Megan

My first planner was that one from 2000 with the scratchy hologram cover everyone used to play DJ on.

And I hated using it.

We had to keep track of our assignments in it, and our class schedule, and a parent had to sign off that you both wrote your assignments down and completed them. I’m not sure if this was their attempt to teach us how to manage our own workloads or how to use a planner. If it was the latter, they totally failed. Either way, the idea of using a paper planner was NOT it for me.

Looking back, I’m not really sure how I kept everything straight in high school or college, but I made it work.

“What can I get you to drink?” The server was just doing her job, but she didn’t realize she had just walked up to a land mine. I asked for a water. He asked for a beer.

And I was dabbing tears from my eyes with a paper napkin.

All I wanted was a date. Dinner and a movie. It should have been so simple. But we had fallen into our old familiar patterns. I was absorbing responsibility for stress that didn’t belong to me. He was worrying for the sake of worry. We were upset with each other for things unsaid.

And it all spilled out before we’d even gotten our drinks.