Date Everything 〈TRUSTED〉

The freezer is a liar. It promises sustenance but delivers freezer-burned bricks. Date everything that goes into the freezer. Vacuum-sealed pork chops go in on 11/01; you have until 02/01 to use them. Without a date, you have an archaeological dig, not a meal plan. Part 2: Date Everything in Home Maintenance (Prevention) The most expensive repairs come from "I think it's been a while."

We all think we remember when we opened that jar of pasta sauce. We don't. Write the opening date on the lid. Do the same for spice jars. (Yes, paprika expires. It doesn't go bad, but it loses its spirit. Date when you opened it; after six months, refresh it.) date everything

Why does one USB-C cable charge your laptop fast, and another takes six hours? Because one is old. When you buy a new cable, take a tiny piece of masking tape and wrap it near the USB end. Write "3A 08/24" (3 amps, bought August 2024). When performance degrades in 2026, you know to replace it without rage. The freezer is a liar

This ambiguity leads to decision fatigue. Should you smell it? Taste it? Throw it away and risk wasting food? By dating everything, you outsource that decision to your past self. You convert a stressful guess into a simple binary fact: Before 04/2025? Toss. After? Keep. The kitchen is where the "date everything" rule pays for itself in 48 hours. Vacuum-sealed pork chops go in on 11/01; you

Surge protectors degrade over time. They do not last forever. Write the purchase date on the bottom. After 3-5 years, that surge protector is just an expensive extension cord. Replace it.

But what if we told you that the simple, low-friction habit of putting a date on everything —from your leftovers to your journal entries, from your chargers to your home maintenance logs—is the single most effective way to reduce anxiety, save money, and preserve your legacy?