February 17, 2011 4 Comments
I was just having this interesting conversation with one of the few people in the world I’d call my sister, Brea, on Facebook. She posted a note about how spontaneous youthful road trips have grown into “planned responsible scheduling”.
I remember days when I had time to just get in the car and go. Sure, I’ve been working since before I was 18, but I always had some extra time on my hands, even when I was in college. Once in a while one of my friends and I would decide to just get in the car and go somewhere. It didn’t have to be far away, it just had to be a place we hadn’t been to before, or hadn’t been to in a long time. You know, just something different to see and do.
These days, I constantly find myself pestering my kids about their job/activities, and wanting to know exactly what they have going on, when, where and what time. Rides have to be given and everyone’s schedule needs to be considered so everyone can get to where they need to be, especially since I have two jobs, Older Son works, and Younger has sports activities. The amalgam of what it is that keeps us so busy every day of every week is what I affectionately call THE PLAN. Oh, man…it sure gets to be a drag to be so hemmed in by THE PLAN. I hate that we can’t just get up and do what we feel like, whenever we feel like it. Already the boys are learning that they need to have their own mini versions of THE PLAN, so they can keep themselves straight on a daily/weekly/monthly basis. I think they’ve learned that only because they know their mother will go stark raving mad if there’s no PLAN. If I ask “what’s THE PLAN?,” and the answer is “I dunno,” it sends me right into atmospheric heights of angst. And then I get the shakes, complete with eye twitching. Not pretty.
I gotta have A PLAN at all times or I am a wreck…just gotta. I’m a slave to THE PLAN. One might even say I’m an addict, but I’m sure I could quit at any time if I chose to.(insert snort of derision and disbelief) What a load o’ horse pucky! If I tried to quit THE PLAN, I would no doubt expire due to an anxiety induced panic attack.
However… in all honesty, I have to say that THE PLAN has it’s up side.
I live and die by my work calendar at The Cube Farm. It’s a miraculous thing that tells me when to get up from my desk to go to a meeting, when I have specific tasks I need to do, and when I get to go to lunch. It really is what keeps THE PLAN in motion for me Monday through Friday. Every day I walk with my friend Clarice , and she’s a hoot. We have a good time. Every Tuesday, I have lunch with my good friend Connie. We only get a half hour together, even though we work in the same building, but I really look forward to them every week. I also have lunch with Brea every Friday. I really look forward to those lunches. Brea helps keep me sane, and provides an opportunity to let my brain go and have fun like nobody else can. All the other days of the work week, I either run errands or have lunch with my parents. They are pretty funny people, and we laugh a lot together over lunch at their house too.
Do I hate THE PLAN? Yeah, mostly I do… but sometimes it works to my advantage to schedule my fun in with the work, so I don’t miss out on it.
Now I must go throw in a load of laundry, and get to bed for the night, because THE PLAN says I have to get up and go to work tomorrow. Again. ‘Night all!