So I was on a date yesterday. Went great. Coffee, conversation, strolling around town, stopped in to a game store and nerded it up. All excellent. It was overall the best date I’ve been on in a long time. A+, for sure.
While we were talking, the conversation came around to plans. More specifically, how funny it was that when we’re younger, we have these plans set in place, thinking that nothing in our life will change, and so we never had to come up with a back up plan. Only thing was, things changed, those plans crashed and burned, and we were left there, staring at the ashes of those “solid plans”, wondering what the hell we were going to do now.
That led me to want to post about it, and so here we are.
When I was younger, in high school, I had this plan on being a journalist. That was what I wanted to DO. I was a wiz at English, thought I wrote great, and wanted to relay the current events to the world. Actually, more specifically, I wanted to work for a news paper or magazine and report back on all those that were rich and famous.
Then I got noticed for my musical talent, became the lead singer in our high school band(yes, band–guitars, drums, bass guitars, the whole nine yards), and decided I wanted to go to college for music performance. I wanted to go to Berkeley in Boston, become a famous singer, be rich and famous. I got a great scholarship to UMA instead, and was going to go there. But they didn’t have dorms. And I didn’t drive. So instead of going to UMA, I chose to go to UMF instead. I didn’t get a dorm, I just bounced around from friend’s dorm to friend’s dorm, sleeping on the hard tiled floor at the foot of their bed for a couple nights, then moving on to the next dorm.
Once at UMF, I realized that their music program…well, it wasn’t Berkeley. It wasn’t even UMA. It sucked. Hardcore. So I switched to the one other thing I knew I was good at–English. Luckily, UMF has an excellent English program, and I had a wonderful professor who dealt with all my nonsense–Misty Krueger. She was an awesome teacher and she guided me to becoming a better writer. I would not be where I am today if it wasn’t for her and her guidance.
While I was at UMF, I was dating this guy. Blair Fenning. Met him day one of Freshman year. A week later, we were a couple. A month later, I was living with him and his folks in their two floor house. We were together for 7 years. I thought it was one of those things that would last forever, thick or thin, sickness and in health. I was going to marry this guy, have children, be a famous writer, live in a big house with lots of property. I wouldn’t need to worry about rushing to get my driver’s license, because he had his, he would take care of me. It was all set in stone. Or so I thought.
Without going in to all the gritty details, those plans that I thought were set in stone, weren’t set in stone. They were made of brittle paper. They burned. Fiercely. We separated a month after we were married. We finalized our divorce in 2014. The same day we got divorced, I moved in to my own apartment. And as I sat there, unpacking boxes and looking at the paper in my hand that confirmed that all my plans I had set for myself were non-existent, I wondered. What the hell am I going to do now?
It took me a while to figure out what the hell I needed to do with my life, and how to go about doing so. I made a plan. Where I didn’t have a license, nor a car, everything kind of hung off of that issue. So the first step I needed to do was get my license.
Plan One: Get License
-Find people to take you driving
-Practice till good and comfortable
-Go for test and pass
Then once that was done, I could trigger any other plan. Go to master’s college at UMO? Check. I can do that, because I can drive myself anywhere. I don’t have to stay close to those who are able to drive me around, like my sister or my friends. Get a job in a city? Check. I can do that, because I can drive myself, I can relocate where I live and where I work because I don’t depend on others. Everything hinges on the license, at least here in Maine. Once that is in hand, all plans can have back up plans upon back up plans.
So the point I am making in this blog is this–plans are not set in stone. Life changes, and those plans you think are set in stone end up being set in paper and ink, and can easily burn to ashes. Make back-up plans for your plans, just in case things do not go the way you expected them to. Because you never know what life has in store for you. That’s why life is so exciting and scary at the same time.