Once upon a time, I had a five-year plan. I knew where I wanted my career to go. What I wanted to accomplish in my personal life. I was sure it was only a matter of time until I was sitting pretty, perched up high on the ladder to success.
Then life happened.
These days, I’m lucky if I have a five-day plan. Heck, I’m lucky if I remember what day it is.
Which isn’t to say I’ve given up.
I still have a long list of things I want to accomplish. I’m writing a novel this year. I’m trying hard to take my career in a new direction. I’m dedicated to keeping this blog alive. I’m attempting to keep my house cleaner and make my wardrobe hipper.
And then, of course, there’s those 15 pounds still stubbornly hanging around…
Most of the time, I’m happy with the progress I’m making. But sometimes? Sometimes I just want to curl up on the couch with my daughter and sit out a few rounds.
Sometimes I’d rather watch a few hours of TV than work on yet another writing project.
Sometimes I’d rather take a walk with my husband than spend my time connecting online.
Sometimes I’d rather get down on the floor and kick and scream next to my daughter than pick her up and haul her off to daycare.
Sometimes I just wish I could be a little more sure I’m doing it right.
Sometimes. Like right now.