I love calendars.

I like big ones to put on the wall so I can see it while I’m working.  I like small ones with two pages for each day.

I love datebooks. I have jotted things down in small datebooks since the 1970s, long before I started writing longer notes in journals.

I have had page-a-day diaries — I like these, but often find I don’t need to write enough to fill a page and, since I can’t see more than two days at a time, they’re not very useful as planners. Besides, this kind of calendar is no good at reminding you on Monday of an appointment you have on Friday.

I’ve had planners — expensive things with replaceable pages.

I’ve had pocket-notebook-sized planners that show a week spread over two pages. These are most useful to me — as long as I consult them.

I used to have several datebooks or planners at the same time. I’d sit and painstakingly enter upcoming events, birthdays, etc. at the beginning of each year. Now, not so much.

I still need a big wall calendar. I forgot to pick a couple up when I was at the bank, and since I do most of my banking electronically, who knows when I’ll be there in person again.

The other night, a friend showed me the calendar on her phone. She’s somehow hooked up so that, when she enters something on her phone calendar, it shows up on her husband’s phone calendar — and vice versa.

One glance at her calendar was frightening. There was so much stuff on it, I couldn’t make anything out. Right then and there, I realized — these people are just much too busy.

Oh, and I realized that I have a calendar on my computer and on my phone and, although I write things on them, I don’t do such a great job of consulting them.

That, I think, is why I need a large calendar on which I can write things I’m supposed to remember, a calendar that hangs close enough to write on and in plain sight, so I can consult it every day.

And I’ve discovered that I no longer keep track of birthdays the way I used to. I don’t write them in datebooks or calendars. I just forget about them — at least, until Facebook reminds me. If people don’t have Facebook accounts, I simply don’t register their birthdays.

A couple of months ago, I refused to buy a 2015 calendar. Seemed too early, a waste of money. But now, now is the time to go calendar shopping.

I don’t need pretty sunsets or cheerleaders or cars or other big, glossy photos. I just need a big, white page with black lettering and dates and a square space to write stuff down.

So I can forget about it, anyway.