I use to be a planner, with emphasis on “use to be”. I loved planning. You know that saying, “Life is what happens while you’re busy making other plans”. Well, I never liked that saying. Life happens because I make plans—at least that’s what I use to believe. Now, I’m not so sure. Peppered almost daily with the question “What’s next?”, I find myself utterly planned out. These past two years—one spent traveling and one spent obtaining my master’s degree—were completely exhausting. And, nearly every hour of each day was planned. This year, a series of sticky notes littered my desk. They’d pile up—either a testament to how much I completed in a week or how much I had left to accomplish. I will not miss my sticky notes. I liked my outlook calendar even less.
So back to the question, what’s next? For once in my life, I have no idea. And, you know what? I kind of like it.