I Started Tracking My Hobbies, and Honestly? It’s Totally Delightful

I didn’t start tracking my hobbies because I’m some kind of spreadsheet stan at heart.
I started tracking them because my memory tapped out years ago—somewhere between having a kid, losing sleep, and living off the crumbs of stale Goldfish crackers since 2013.

I’d sit down for a rare, glorious board game night and think:
Have we played this? Did we like it? Did we invent extremely specific house rules that I absolutely do not remember?

And when your game nights are spaced out by, you know… life, your brain does not hold onto the setup instructions. Or the scoring. Or who won. (It should. It refuses.)

So I made a board game tracker.
Something beautiful.
Something satisfying.
Something that makes me happy when I look at it (and makes me want to actually use it!).

And then—because this is how all great systems are born—things escalated.

I made a movie tracker so I’d stop pretending I “totally remembered” where we watched something. (Also extremely convenient for evaluating which streaming services were pulling their weight and which ones were just quietly siphoning $14.99 a month.)

Then came a TV tracker.
Then books, because I wanted to see how many I actually read in a month without relying on my brain’s storage, which basically runs on dial-up these days.
Then video games.

And suddenly it turned into a whole world of organized delight.

At some point, I realized the real joy wasn’t the data—it was the vibe.
The creativity.
The satisfying little moment of jotting something down and thinking:
“Oh, that’s where this goes.”

And honestly?
It’s totally delightful.
Like gel-pen-on-crisp-paper delightful.
Like finally-found-the-perfect-planner-tab delightful.
Like “this feels suspiciously grown-up in a fun way” delightful.

The Unexpected Joy of Seeing Your Life… Organized, but Make It Fun

Once I had everything in one place—the games, the movies, the shows, the books, the campaigns I swear I’ll finish someday—something shifted.

My hobbies stopped disappearing into the void.

Suddenly, I could see my own taste again.
And not in a quantified-self, “your habits, but make it clinical” way.
More like:

• Ah yes, this was the month I fell down a sci-fi rabbit hole.

• Apparently, I rate cozy Kindle mysteries very generously.

• Wow, we really did give that game three separate tries.

It was like opening a Trapper Keeper and finding my personality neatly filed under labeled tabs.

Deeply satisfying.
Deeply me.

Game Nights Get an Upgrade (and Receipts)

Look, I’m not saying I track board game winners to settle debates.
I’m also not saying I don’t.

Because here’s the thing about grown-up game nights:
No one remembers anything.

Not who won.
Not who “didn’t care about winning.”
Not which house rule we invented that one night when everyone was overtired and slightly unhinged.

But the tracker remembers.

So now our game archive includes:

• the official win–loss record (democracy!)

• the rating we swore we’d remember (lies!)

• the setup notes Future Us will desperately need

• the inside jokes that deserve permanent residency

It’s not competitive.
It’s documentation.
For science. Or posterity. Or petty satisfaction. Hard to say.

Video Games: The Cozy Escape That Actually Deserves a Spotlight

Tracking my video games turned out to be its own brand of magic.

Because, unlike movies or books, games are experiences.
You remember the vibes, but the details?

Gone. Lost. Evaporated into the same void holding every password I’ve ever reset.

The tracker fixed that.

It helped me visualize:

• which cozy RPG I sank 40 hours into

• which late-night “just one more quest” spirals I regret absolutely nothing about

• which indie gems completely stole my heart

• which dailies were actually worth my time (and where I left off)

• which endings and achieves I actually reached (a quiet flex)

It became this gorgeous little archive of my virtual adventures—my escapism, my comfort-play, my pixelated joy.

And the best part?

When someone asks, “What should I play next?”, I don’t stare into the middle distance like my brain just blue-screened.
I check the tracker.

It’s the grown-up equivalent of keeping all your cartridges lined up in a tidy case.
Old-school cool.
Modern clarity.
Peak delight.

TV + Movies Become a Personality Study in the Best Way

Let’s talk movies and TV.

Before the tracker, choosing what to watch felt like digital roulette.
Now?

It’s a vibe check.

A beautifully organized menu of:

• what we watched

• what we loved

• what we tolerated

• what we bailed on

• where we watched it

• which streaming service is actually earning its keep

(The annual “Do we still need Hulu?” conversation has never been clearer.)

But my favorite part is seeing my taste patterns emerge like constellations:

• comfort-show seasons I return to like old friends

• new obsessions I didn’t see coming

• movies that deserved the five-star emotional TED Talk I gave afterward

It’s not about tracking for the sake of tracking.
It’s about noticing what actually delights you.

Books: The Softest Flex

I didn’t start tracking my reading to hit a number.
I started because I genuinely couldn’t remember if I’d read one book or twelve in a month—and I wanted that tiny spark of satisfaction of knowing.

And wow, does it hit.

There’s something quietly powerful about flipping through a reading log and seeing evidence of:

• your seasons

• your curiosities

• your obsessions

• your emotional phases

• your “I need something gentle” months

• your “I’m smarter than I look today” picks

It feels like a vibe snapshot.
Not a challenge.
Not pressure.
Just clarity… with a personality.

Except for that one year in 2024 when I did make it a 100-book challenge.
My trackers kept me on point.
And for the record? I finished at 116, with another 72 DNF. RIP to the ones that tried.

A System That Makes Tracking Joy Feel Suspiciously Easy (In the Best Way)

Here’s the secret no one tells you:

Tracking your hobbies hits harder than it has any right to.

Not because it’s productive.
Not because it levels up your life.
Not because we suddenly decided to gamify joy.

It works because it gives your brain a breather.

You get a clean layout.
A designated landing zone for all your little delights.
A moment of: “Oh wow, look at me—fully functioning adult with a system.”

It’s the analog equivalent of closing 47 browser tabs and hearing your nervous system whisper, finally.

Just… clearer.
Just… sharper.
Just… the kind of grown-up satisfaction they should really bottle and sell at Target.

If You Want to Try It Without Committing to a Whole System…

I made something for you.

A free sampler pack called Play It Cool—a handful of movie, TV, reading, board game, and video game trackers designed for beautifully busy, nonlinear creatives who want clarity without the pressure.

Use them digitally.
Print them.
Stick them in your planner like a tiny joy dashboard.

They’re structured, aesthetic, and wildly satisfying to fill in.

Zero-sweat organization.
High-delight clarity.
A soft, stylish landing zone for the hobbies that make your life spark.

👉🏼 Grab the Play It Cool pack and let your hobbies live somewhere delightful.