The case for a boring calendar

My calendar used to look like a patchwork quilt. Every evening had a different colour: writing, admin, a call, a class, a vague block labelled "catch up". It looked busy and productive. It mostly produced switching.

Fewer kinds of days

This year I gave each weekday evening one job and kept it for three months. Monday is admin. Tuesday and Wednesday are making. Thursday is the letter you are reading. Friday is nothing on purpose.

Variety is lovely in a life and expensive in a week.

The surprise was how much less deciding there was. On a making night, I don't ask what to do. I open the project that was open last Wednesday and carry on.

What a boring calendar needs

• One job per evening, written as a single word.

• A rule for what happens when life interrupts: the job moves to the next free evening, never doubles up.

• A review every quarter, because a boring calendar that never changes turns into a cage.

It isn't for everyone. If your work is already repetitive, you might need more colour in the evenings, not less. But if your days are full of changes, a dull calendar at night can feel like a quiet room.

Readers who wrote back after the issue about a year of Thursdays asked how I protect the writing night. This is most of the answer.

A boring calendar also makes it easier to say no kindly. When someone asks for Tuesday, I can say Tuesday is a making night and offer Monday instead, which is true and doesn't need a longer explanation. Most people respect a plan more than they respect being busy.

The hardest part of a boring calendar is the first two weeks, when every evening feels like it should be something else. A friend invites you out on a making night. A tempting idea arrives on admin night. I say yes to friends and no to ideas, and the ideas go in the notebook for later.

The admin night turned out to be the quiet hero. Bills, emails, the form I've been avoiding, the library renewal. Because they all have one evening, they stop leaking into the others. My making nights got noticeably calmer once the small worries had a place to live.

Friday nothing-night was the one I resisted most. It felt lazy. Now I think it holds the rest of the week together. Knowing that Friday is empty makes Tuesday's ninety minutes easier to start, because the week has an end that doesn't involve a list.

If you try this, start with two evenings, not five. Give them one word each and keep them for a month before you change anything.

This week's question: if each of your evenings had one word, what would they be? Hit reply.

— Ines