Disassembly.

Part 1 of 2

This past month has been a pretty interesting period of reevaluation for me. I uprooted my entire note taking system, finally broke down and bought a Pebble to see what this next phase of computing will look like, and after reading this great post dumped my tasks out of OmniFocus and into Todoist last week, which is super cool.

Which is why it’s strange for me to be telling you that I’ve already stopped using Todoist. Not that there’s a single thing wrong with it in my experience–it’s amazing and flexible and actually fun to use. But as I go through this weirdly intense examination of my current tools, patterns and problems emerge and reintroduce themselves. I’ve been thinking a lot about why this happens for me at different points in my life and I don’t have a great answer.

I’m sure I’ve mentioned this before, but when I was a kid, and old enough to manage it on my own, I rearranged my bedroom furniture constantly. It was like, an almost weekly occurrence. It would often happen in the middle of the night. My parents would wake up and come into my room the following morning and find everything totally different but neatly organized (big surprise to everyone, I’m sure), like some anal-retentive college prank. I’d find something I liked eventually and stick with it for a while, but it was always in flux, always up for grabs at any point if my mind changed, because I thought it could always be better somehow.

It occurs to me now, 25 years later, that my room is my computer(s) and I’m still doing it. I mean, as opposed to my actual bedroom which would probably lead to divorce or something. I thought this was a problem I had, one that I needed to eliminate, but now I’m not so sure. I’ll get into specifics later.

This week’s shift began when I forgot about a calendar event that my wife added earlier in the week because I wasn’t paying attention to my calendar over the past few days. Which led me to think about why that was happening, and in turn to how I’m organizing different types of information. I pride myself on not letting things fall through the cracks, so when something does, it means something’s wrong somewhere. And I need to find out what it is.

I’m going to write a separate post shortly about the technical changes in my workflow that arose as a result of this situation. Consider this the preface to that breakdown.

The lead in is: I don’t think I’m as sick as I thought I was, and understanding this allows me to grow in other ways. Follow up forthcoming.

Author: Seth Clifford

I'm here for the open bar.