So every year I mean to do this — Make a Life Plan — and every year it’s suddenly the middle of January and I’m like… Oh.
This year is cool, though, because I actually looked at a calendar with regard to my blog, and realized — holy shit! I can totally do this thing. If I start now, I will totally have this done by the time January actually rolls around. *YES*
So, what is a Life Plan, all capitalized-n-shit? I like this definition:
“A detailed life plan is instructive
for creating greater clarity
regarding life priorities and next steps.”
There are six basic steps for writing a Life Plan,
and conveniently enough, there also happen to be six Saturdays between now and the New Year. *sweet* I don’t think I’ve mentioned nearly enough how much I enjoy (a) Lists; (b) Serendipity; and (c) Personal Challenges (even though I suck at them and seldom follow through).
Life Plan Week #1: Wants
Life Plan Week #2: Needs
Life Plan Week #3: Preparation
Life Plan Week #4: Goals
Life Plan Week #5: Plans
Life Plan Week #6: Accountability
Looks simple enough, but in actuality this is some fairly introspective doodoo. Let’s dive in, shall we?
Consider your hopes and dreams.
Recall aspects of life that give you joy.
When do you feel most at peace?
Where do your passions lie?
Golly. My hopes and dreams are so scatter-ish right now. I mean, I dream of being able to hire someone to come in and clean my house for me once a week so I don’t have to do it. That would be fucking awesome-sauce.
I’m not entirely kidding, there, either. That’s not just me being wistful or facetious. Keeping up with the projects with which I have become engaged does not mesh with housewifely duties. I know I’ve got too much on my plate, but currently, there’s not a damn thing I’m willing to put down. I put shit down for long enough, and now it’s time to figure out a way to carry everything. That’s part of what this is about.
So okay. I guess increasing my income is part-n-parcel of my dreams. Everything always comes down to fucking money, doesn’t it? Yeah. I need more money. So I can hire a housecleaner.
Some of the things I’m not willing to put down — the “aspects of life that give [me] joy” — include writing and blogging. Not the same things. Two separate items. Just so you know.
I guess on top of *increasing my income*, I also hope I can complete my novel, as I dream of having it published. And I hope we can get my bloggy-blog branded with a nifty logo, as my hubz and I dream of growing it into… something. That’s more his end of things, but still.
I’m wondering how close to “Bucket List” territory I’m supposed to go here. I mean, I dream of going back to Europe for a visit someday; moving to Canada after my kids are both successfully on their own; going back to college with my sweetheart; riding an elephant; opening a book shop with my hubz; having my own vehicle…
Oh, and then there’s my house. I dream of having my house repainted and landscaped and insulated and plumbed and wired and tiled and carpeted and fixed so it’s not broken and stupid. Assuming we are still going to live in it. Everything is all a bit “up in the air” currently. I totally dream that shit figures itself out because I’m so tired of stressing over it.
I’m going to buy fucking tapestries to hang on all the walls so that the drafts don’t defeat the purpose of CENTRAL HEATING, BITCHES. I’m paying five-hundred times what I need to be paying for my house to stay even close to something called “warm”. Fucker.
OMG, and while I’m dreaming big, I’m gonna toss out here: I totally dream of fitting back into a size 10. At my healthiest, running every day and working out and actually TRYING to look decent, I got down to a size 7. I am an athletically built girl, so no amount of dieting &/or exercise is going to make a dreamy size 5, which I believe these days is like a fucking zero, or whatever those hoes in skinny jeans call it. Honestly, I think I’d be perfectly content at a Marilyn Monroe size 12.
This stuff is all over the board. And most of it comes down to increasing my income. Fuck. Well, at least I know where I stand. Introspection has caused sadness in my heart along with enlightenment in knowing what direction I’m heading.
Wants / Hopes / Dreams:
— complete my novel (helps if I would WRITE IT, and costs nothing, you daft cow.)
— publish my novel (helps if I would COMPLETE IT — see above note.)
—ride an elephant (helps if I… oh… I got nothing here. Anybody know how I go about achieving this one?)
— increase income so I can:
…brand bloggy-blog (so it’s cool-n-shit)
…buy another car (so I’m not stranded and thus would be less likely to make fun of my fellow villagers)
…hire housecleaner (you still think I’m joking. Joke’s on you, Poopsie, because I’m all for realz.)
…fix house shit (and make it stop being yellow because 1. It’s ugly, and 2. My 8yo daughter hates our yellow house).
… and someday do this ridiculous stuff, which I am listing here for the hell of it because FUCK YOU, that’s why…
…— visit Europe
…— move to Canada
…— go back to college
…— open book shop
Okay, so there it is. Assignment for Life Plan Week #1 is completed. Next Saturday we’ll jump on the next step. And if any of you feel like listing YOUR hopes-n-dreams in the comments, I’d love to read them. I’d also feel better knowing I’m not the only one contemplating END OF YEAR crapola.