They say it takes two to tango, but in a relationship of a planner and a non-planner, who leads the dance?
If you have ever sent a friend, partner, or family member an outlook invite for a personal event, you’re one.
If you consider Christmas in July a good time to buy Christmas presents (for December), you’re one, too.
And if you have more than five spreadsheets going at once? You’re DEFINITELY one.
Planners. We make the world go around. Without planners, there would be no condiments at an outdoor BBQ, no reminder of your Nanna’s birthday, and certainly no extra rolls of toilet paper under the sink. We are the select few, born into this world with a mild case of OCD and an obsession with turning appliances off at the wall.
In a few weeks time, I am heading overseas with my partner for a few weeks on a work (him) meets leisure (me) type of trip, and nothing is planned. NOTHING. At my partner’s request, we’re just going to like, you know, BOOK THINGS AS WE GO. After weeks and weeks of struggling, I have finally given in and realised there is nothing I can do, and that I must move into the final stage of grieving: acceptance.
So, in light of my recent efforts in suppressing the Jumanji drums inside my head every time my spreadsheet sits unpopulated, here are my top tips for my fellow planners out there on How To Survive Dating A Non-Planner.
Tip #1: Drink more.
And I’m not talking about water. I find that I am much, much more relaxed when discussing the fact that we might be leaving a week earlier, or that all of the destinations have changed, or that my extensive and perfect spreadsheet is gathering dust after a few wines. In fact, you should make trip changes a drinking game. Every time a detail of the trip is edited, cancelled, or tweaked, take a sip. You’ll be fine. *hiccups*
Tip #2: Request a task.
Because organising is like oxygen to me, I will always make sure that I can scrape together something to do whilst all of the other laissez-faire folk potter around having cups of tea and writing haiku’s about the merits of disorganisation. I remember in my group tasks during university I would have to allocate myself something menial to do, like claw my eyes out, or bang my head against the table, whilst everyone else discussed the price of beer.