“If you want God to laugh, tell him about your plans.” Woody Allen said that, and though Mr. Allen himself makes me feel kind of gross, I like that quote.
My life has been a continuous string of changed plans. I have had the next big great idea, big move, big job, or big plan roughly 148 times. Each plan was an attempt to find the thing I loved doing, the place I wanted to be, the person I wanted to be, or fall in love with my life. I have succeeded, in varying degrees, with each new plan. Sometimes, my great new plan just straight up failed, and the new thing that was supposed to fit was restrictive and uncomfortable. Of course I am better for these things, I have learned from all of my, “adventures” let’s call them, and I have a better idea of what I want to do and be.
Of course, now I am grown up, I’m 33 years old and I have laser-focus on my life and what I want. Mmmhmm.
As I mentioned a few weeks ago, I’m out of Cambodia in less that two weeks. It’s been just a few minutes under five years here, and it’s time for something else. Specifically somewhere else, where I sweat less and can dive into my now-professional love of fashion. My new master plan is a life in LA, a job with a very cool handbag company, taco eating, and dog shopping.
Plans change, I know that better than anyone else, but I have a good feeling about this one. This plan I made for me, which is somewhat new to my decision-making process, and I am feeling very pleased with myself.
Come visit, I have to do all the touristy stuff at some point, and I would rather blame it on you.