A wrestling match with time management

If the headlines read, "Time Management Tools and Poison Ivy Become Extinct" I'd be one happy camper. Anyone who was in the work force in the early '90s knows what I am talking about.

Before the Blackberry and Palm Pilot entered the marketplace, time management courses were offered. Leather folders were sold, which included filler pages formatted with hourly time slots to plan your day. Companies embraced the concept in an effort to create employees that are more productive. I never believed, for one minute, this would create people that are more creative.

In the late '80s, I accepted an entry-level position with a company. I was expected to abide by the policies and procedures written by the company and follow the daily routine. In the early '90s, I was promoted to an administrative position. With the promotion came higher expectations. We were hired to be team players and attend classes to further our education and increase productivity.

While word processing classes were a pleasure, I was scheduled to attend a detailed time management class in Toledo. Not long after the class began, I received a prize for being the first one to come up with an idea about managing time. The prize was an eraser.

"How wonderful," I thought, "A gadget to wipe away my future mistakes."

Somehow, I survived the robotic class, which showed us how to divide every hour of the day into quarter hours if needed. For example: If we had a meeting scheduled in our planner at 9 a.m. and a conference call at 9:15 a.m., we were to, evidently, tell the person sitting in front of us to leave at 9:14 a.m.

I could not imagine living life following a micromanaged time-management planner. While I cooperated with the program, inside I rebelled because I believe time management, microstyle is what takes away three of our freedoms: the freedom to react off-the-cuff, the freedom to ad-lib, and the freedom to wing it. While at work, I had to avoid every spontaneous spur-of-the-moment impulse. My days were to be planned. "Write your plan and work your plan" was an unwritten company motto.

After being employed more than 10 years, the company decided to close the branch office where I worked. Three of us were laid off one cold winter morning. It came as no surprise to me that each of us was told, privately, on the quarter hour. The first at 10 a.m., the second at 10:15 a.m. and I was the last. My meeting was at 10:30 a.m. Fifteen minutes was exactly the amount of time it took to explain our severance package and say goodbye.

Of the three, I was the only one excited to be released from my job.

"When God closes one door he opens another," I announced freely. My superiors were puzzled and relieved because this was not an easy job for them. Today, I would still patronize this business. After all, who wouldn't trust and rely on a company so well organized they plan their actions in 15-minute increments?

Time management pages and to-do lists are two different animals. I use a 3 x 5 card and list what I want to accomplish every day; however, I choose the order and time. I have also written a daily schedule for household chores. After all, it is wise to keep some order in our lives. Plus, it prevents brain strain from trying to remember everything.

What revs my engine is anything last minute; however, most companies and some people do not care for this kind of drama.

"Spontaneity sparks, over-planning bores" is my unwritten motto.

It's hard to find a perfect balance when it comes to taking the time we are given to accomplish what must be done. Staying on schedule, in any setting, can be like a wrestling match between time and your best-set plans. I believe most individuals are capable of working out a system that works best for them. After all, how many times have you heard someone say, "Things could not have worked out better if we had planned them?"