I have a feeing that something is missing in my life in the year 2014. In fact, I know exactly what it is. For as long as I can claim to be a grown-up, I have carried around a daily planner with me (most recently almost always a much loved moleskin) – much as I would my purse, my keys and my mobile phone. This year,  I am reluctantly trying out Google calender. It has some advantages: I’m able to share with and invite my husband to appointments we have together (I could obviously just ask him, but such requests in the past were usually met with a ‚fine, just remind me with an e-mail‘), I can copy and paste booking numbers etc directly from e-mails, I get a useful (albeit sometimes annoying) reminder when the appointment is imminent and I have assess to the calender pretty much at all times without having to remember to bring it with me.

But I miss my little book. Every so often, I  find myself flicking through my paper trail left in calenders over the last decade or so – lectures at university, details about Sunday fixtures for our medical school football team (yes, I was a footballer once), meet-ups with friends (some lost, some still very much present), job interviews, flight details, hotel addresses and endless do-to lists. All in my sometimes neat and sometimes hurried and scrawly writing. The small details which actually tell me a lot about how I spent that particular year. Some would label it as hoarding, but together with my box of letters and old journals, these little books will never be thrown away.

I am pretty sure I will never flick back through a Google calender with an affectionate smile on my face. A fine example of technology making our lives easier, but at the same time taking something away. Maybe it’s something I just need to get used to or maybe this paperless century is just not the thing for me. Although it’s early days in the experiment, it’s still January. A pretty good time to buy calenders at a reduced price.