So, you’re curious about my “ERM method divorce,” huh? Well, pull up a chair. It wasn’t a clean break, more like one of those messy, drawn-out affairs, but let me tell you, it was probably one of the best decisions I ever made for myself. I went all in on this system, and getting out was a whole process.
First off, what was this “ERM method”? It wasn’t something I read in a fancy book or learned in a seminar. Nope, this was my own home-brewed concoction, my personal “Everything Requires Micromanagement” system. Sounds fun, right? I genuinely thought I’d cracked the code to peak efficiency. I started by mapping out every single area of my life I thought needed “optimization.” Work projects, personal errands, even my downtime – nothing was safe.
I remember getting a new notebook and meticulously dedicating sections to different “life departments.” Then I moved on to digital tools, thinking more tech would mean more control. My daily routine under this ERM looked a bit like this:
- Wake up, immediate 15-minute review of the day’s micro-tasks.
- Every hour blocked out, with alerts. If a task took 5 minutes longer, the whole schedule cascaded into chaos.
- I’d track “input” vs “output” for almost everything. How many pages read, how many lines of code written, how many “productive conversations” had.
- Even “relaxation” was scheduled, and if I didn’t feel relaxed enough, I’d mark it as a failed task.
I genuinely believed this was the path to becoming a super-achiever. I was convinced that if I just planned hard enough, controlled every variable, I’d eliminate stress and breeze through life. For a little while, the novelty kept me going. I felt like I was in a command center, directing my life with precision. I’d show off my complex spreadsheets and packed calendar to anyone who’d pretend to be interested.
But then, the cracks started to show. Big ones. Instead of feeling empowered, I felt perpetually behind. The system I built to serve me started to own me. If something unexpected happened – a phone call that ran long, a sudden errand – it wasn’t just an interruption; it was a catastrophe that threw my entire meticulously crafted day into disarray. I spent more time managing the system than actually doing meaningful things. It was like constantly servicing a high-maintenance machine that produced very little. My creativity nosedived because there was no room for spontaneous thought. Everything had to fit into a pre-defined box.
You might be wondering what the final straw was. It wasn’t one dramatic blow-up. It was more of a slow, grinding realization that this just wasn’t working, capped by a moment that really hit home. My kid had a school concert, a really big deal for them. I’d, of course, scheduled it in my ERM system, with travel time calculated to the minute. But the school sent out a last-minute email – the concert was starting 30 minutes earlier. My phone buzzed, I saw the email, but my ERM-addled brain just… short-circuited. It wasn’t on The Schedule. I actually wasted precious minutes trying to figure out how to “re-optimize” the rest of my perfectly planned afternoon instead of just dropping everything and going. I got there late, flustered, and saw the look on my kid’s face. That look. It was like a punch to the gut. Here I was, micromanaging every second for “efficiency,” and I was failing at the stuff that truly mattered. That was the moment I knew the ERM method and I were heading for a divorce.
Actually pulling the plug was tough, I won’t lie. It had become such a part of my identity. I started small. I deliberately left an hour unplanned in my day. It felt weird, almost irresponsible. Then I tried not planning a whole Saturday. The urge to fill it with “productive” tasks was immense. I had to physically stop myself from opening my planning apps. I started by just saying “no” to some of the self-imposed rules. Did I really need to track how many sips of water I took? Probably not. I focused on bigger goals instead of tiny, suffocating tasks.
So, what’s life like post-divorce? It’s… calmer. My desk is sometimes messy. My calendar has white space. Some days I’m not as “productive” in the old ERM sense. But I’m getting the important things done, the things that actually move the needle in my life and work. And more importantly, I feel like a human being again, not a robot executing code. I still plan, of course, but it’s more like having a rough map and a compass, not a minute-by-minute itinerary dictated by a tyrant – who used to be me. Turns out, letting go of that rigid control was the most productive thing I could have done.
