Do not panic, people, but summer is careening madly into the second half of June and I still don’t have a plan! Friends keep asking me, “What are you doing this summer?” and I got NOTHIN’. Just a blank stare and the propensity to start hyperventilating. I keep thinking that I’m going to wake up early some morning and then, gee howdy! Watch out! All sorts of productivity is going to happen! But so far, all I’ve managed to do upon awakening is list sideways in my chair whilst clutching my morning coffee.


Trust me, with this brood, you need a plan. Nothing is ever accomplished by accident or on the fly. I’ve got rooms to paint, floors to refinish, bike rides to take, decks to tear down, camping trips to…uh, camp. These things need to be written down and assigned their own dates on the calendar. Daily lists need to be drawn up. Yes. Seriously. I need a daily list. There is so much minutia that needs to be done all the time, that it actually creates it’s own gravitational pull and sucks me into the vortex. I need that list to wave in front of me so that I can shout, “NO! It is not laundry day! I don’t care how large that pile! Today is (check list) a trip to the Farmer’s Market and an afternoon at the beach! Begone!” Then waving my list in front of me, like a braid of garlic before a vampire, the kiddlets and I will make our escape out the door.

MUCH better than laundry.

Without the plan, it’s laundry, dishes, vacuum, repeat. And repeat and repeat and repeat.

If I had to be honest, I suppose I could admit that the same thing happens on a larger, life level. For all my love of lists, I’ve never mapped out any sort of plan for my life. As I heard my fav gossip station hosts so aptly put it the other day, I just sort of Forest Gumped it, and here I am. And mostly, that’s a good thing.

Had I made some sort of rational plan for my life, however, certain aspects of it would be much, much different. There would have been some sort of structured ascent, career-wise (heck, there would have been some sort of actual “career”) and perhaps a financial pay-off which involves neither a small claims lawsuit nor a tiny man in a green suit and his pot of gold.

My mom called recently, fresh off a retirement seminar to sound the alarm about what the future holds;
“You know, by the time you retire, you are going to need a minimum of a million dollars.” She said, allegedly helpfully.
I snorted. “Well, I’m not going to have it.”
“But you need it.”
“But I’m not going to have it.”
“I’m serious.”
I’m serious.”

So there we were, dead in the water, locked in the conversational equivalent of a High Noon stand-off. Unfortunately for both of us, my only goals have revolved around the type of person I want to be and not a desire to, you know, eat actual people food in my twilight years. I’m sure all that personal growth will be a great comfort to me when I’m mopping the floor at McDonald’s in my nineties.

Perhaps it’s not too late for me. The first child/Virgo in me has a tremendous amount of faith in organization. A fresh, new notebook and a detailed, five-point plan might be all I need to have a successful summer, business and life…

Shut up. It could happen.

I’ve heard people say, “The surest way to make God laugh is to make a plan.” Well, fine, he may be laughing, but at the very least I might get my bathroom repainted.


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The Rise & Fall of a Momocracy

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