Back in the old days a schedule was a schedule. If you were meeting up with a friend for a drink after work, that was sacred! Only the death of a very close relative was an acceptable excuse or of course, your own death but you had to provide a death certificate.
During my working days, schedules managed my life. It was a good thing. I knew where I had to be and what I was doing most of the time. I always had a little flex because that’s the way I roll but my jobs didn’t allow complete flexibility.
First, there were start and stop times although the stop time did have the flexibility of being later. Lunch times were flexible but there was too much work to fit in long lunches.
Doctor appointments and such were tightly integrated with work schedules and other activities.
Today (or in the new days) I can blow off most things on my schedule and it won’t take the death of a close relative. Of course my own death always trumps a scheduled event.
Planning an outside activity and it rains – bang, it’s rescheduled.
Picking fruit at a nearby farm and it’s a humid 90 degrees – not today.
Grocery shopping on your list and the pond is calling – we’re eating takeout.
I could go on and on. Some weeks I start with a full schedule of things that are never done. Another week my schedule is wide open. Suddenly things pop up and I’m running on empty.
Of course one of the worst disorganizers is health issues. That can make mincemeat out of a schedule in no time flat. Just ask the beloved husband.
A year or so back he got a really bad inner ear infection and missed two expensive concerts by some of his favorite rock bands. He wasn’t a happy camper.
These days I think of my schedule as a list of suggestions. Times sure have changed!