I hate making plans. It takes so much brain power and micro-analyzing, and then you have this ^%$ plan you’re stuck with, and you have to do it, and it will bug you when you’re supposed to be sleeping. I prefer to live life on the fly, and not know what I’m eating for lunch until I’m halfway through making it. When people ask me those what-will-you-be-doing-in-5-years questions, it gives me hives. Heck if I know! ANYTHING could happen in 5 years. I could be living in a moon colony, raising robot bears. 5 years. Sheesh.
Every now and then, though, living spontaneously bites me in the butt. Like when I come to Texas and I have a limited amount of days to see people and eat Texas food (note to self: need crawdad). The MOG comes here to work, with ministry most nights and days full of song and sermon writing and rehearsals and setup and spiritual trances, whatever, so I’m on my own with my sidekicks to plan most of my days. This time I’ve tried really hard, even typing in all my
tacos appointments in my calendar on my phone. It’s just weird, though. You people live like this? Always knowing you have somewhere to be? Clocks and alarms and forward thinking? and waiting? Where’s that calamine lotion?
Still, though the I protesteth, I made the plans. If you were wanting to buy us Mexican food and have not given a shout-out, shout out, yo. There’s always second breakfast.