create a 5 year plan

by other goals. And I’ve already knocked off one of the items (the couch) and am working, through said goals, at the rest. So I’m calling this done.

but I’m tossing some ideas around in my head. Methods by which I might hope to achieve my list of a few months’ back. More to come on this…

Or, in my case, cheap American beer. Reading over my entries on this goal, I think I nailed the essence of my plan a month ago:

1. Not be broke.
2. Not hate what I do for a living.
3. Like myself most of the time.
4. Feel good more often than I feel bad.
5. Have a new couch.

Now I just need to work out how to do these things.

1. A work in progress – chipping away at my current debt. And, of course, not spending money on a whim, which I am occasionally prone to do.

2. I really need to get serious about the job hunt. I also need to expand my skill set. Network. And create a portfolio.

3 and 4. While this, too, is an ongoing process, I believe leveling out my hormone level would help tremendously in this regard.

5. Next tax return. I’m going to set aside the whole thing and add savings to it, then go buy the couch. I’ve put this off long enough.

I excel at deferred gratification, long-range planning, and all kinds of responsible crap. When I was a kid, I couldn’t get to sleep at night if I didn’t have the rest of my life mapped out. But for the most part, every single one of my plans has fallen through – and they’re not the kind of plans you can just go pick up at the store. Misery, self-pity, depression, and many boring, circular, often intoxicated conversations ensue.

Live in the moment, I’m told – it’s the only way you’ll be truly happy. But that advice does not go across the board. If I were really living in the moment here, I’d go buy a pack of cigarettes. Heck, I’d probably be halfway through a decent bottle of wine and munching on cheese straws while planning on playing hooky from work tomorrow. But that’s not what people mean by living in the moment…I’m supposed to live in the moment only as long as it doesn’t involve anything bad for my future health or damaging to my career.

Seriously, what’s up with that?

I know I’m repeating myself here, but I think this is something I need to work out before I can embark on a 5-year plan. Namely, do I still want to be the kind of person who plans in advance, or do I want to become the kind of person who lives for right now?

I’ve been kind of kicking around this idea all weekend; a conversation with R earlier fed into it, but brought no resolution. Here are the options as I see them:

1. Have a kid (in matrimony or not) with someone (most likely R). Carry on as I have been, for the most part, in an effort to feed said kid and its parents. Possibly halt the endo in the process. (Or not, and with my luck I’d produce a colicky baby on top of it all.)

2. Not have a kid, work up to cohabitation with R. Continue as I have been, or perhaps explore self-employment since I’ll have R as a financial safety net. Endo carries on unchecked.

3. Not have a kid, not cohabitate, continue as have been or explore self-employment. Endo frolics in the meadow.

4. Not have a kid/cohabitate, look into relocation to somewhere more agreeable (the metaphorical cabin-int-the-woods); be on-call constantly in case of failing parental health. Endo does its thing.

_{(endo references entirely facetious, of course…based on the age-old belief that pregnancy will cure it)}

Now, I have not the first clue how R would feel about all this. I know he likes babies, but I don’t know if that applies to his baby and immediate fatherhood. I do know he would be there for me were I to get preggers, but at this point there’s merely a hairs-breadth chance of an accident in that area – we’d have to plan it. And we’re not even close to there yet.

I also don’t know how my parents feel about me sticking around for their sakes, and don’t care. They are my parents. They’ve taken care of me my whole life. I think it’s time I returned the favor. So I guess that strikes out #4. The other three are very much up in the air.

Huh…I guess I did come to some sort of resolution after all. My next move, then, is to explore my employment options.

of what happens in 5 years. (Well, in some cases, in nigh on a couple decades. But I did last see some of these people at my 10-year reunion.) I just stumbled upon the MySpace pages for my (first) high school’s 15-year reunion page, and from there the pages of the kids I grew up with.

This sounds awful, but it’s true: I look damn good.

It’s funny, though, seeing how they all turned out. The ones I might have expected to plow on to their PhDs married right out of school and started popping out kids. The ones I would have expected to be working factory jobs have advanced degrees and are interested in things I’d never expect a kid from our small town to even know about.

By and large, they’re all fat. I don’t know why this shocked me, but it did. Many of them no longer have much hair. My immediate reaction to seeing the group picture was “I’m not that old, am I?”

I can’t decide if I feel good for holding up as well as I did (at the 10-year reunion, my grade school best friend recognized me immediately, whereas it took me a few moments to place her), if I feel bad for not having married as well or popping out a single kid when they have kids in junior high, or if I can just take the high road and do neither.

I guess it’s a mix of all three. But it’s made me realize that, in order to create a 5-year plan, I have to boil it down to who I really am – what won’t change in 5 years, or 20. So, what do I really want to accomplish?

1. Not be broke.
2. Not hate what I do for a living.
3. Like myself most of the time.
4. Feel good more often than I feel bad.
5. Have a new couch.

There. My wine-sodden, exhaustion-driven 5-year plan. I’ll polish it up when I’m less tired and more sober.

Five years ago, I was less than two months’ away from getting married. My focus was on cleaning house, making dinner, paying the bills, and planning all the changes I was going to make in order to have a healthy pregnancy (drink less alcohol and caffeine, quit smoking, start exercising, gain weight, eat better – all drastic lifestyle changes at the time). My only hobby was shopping; it was like I was trying to fill the emptiness in my life with stuff. I wasn’t blissfully happy with my wasband-to-be, but I wasn’t miserable (yet). He was really more a means to an end, now that I think about it. Baby = finish line. I was incapable of living in the present; instead, I lived in a future that never came to pass.

Now…well, I still think I’d like to be a mom, but it’s not my only goal. I want a life. Not a finish line, but a growing pool of things that engage me. I can’t say I’m there yet, but I’ve made a hell of a lot of progress. (Ironically enough, all my baby-related goals just kind of happened along the way. Funny how things work themselves out when you stop pushing.) I like the relationship I’m in, and I think it very well may lead to something long-term, but the thought of cohabitation and marriage is a bit scary at the moment. My attitude towards life, people, possessions have all changed drastically. I’m more interested in being happy now and less willing to put up with delayed gratification.

Bottom line is, I’m not the same person I was five years ago. I don’t want the same things, do the same things, or respond to life in the same way. So I’m not sure how I feel about making plans for someone I may not be when they’re achieved. And if I take out the definites (I will have a baby, I will save $5000, I will buy a new car, things of that nature), this goal is basically a repeat of my “100 things I want in life” goal. Which I’ve made little progress on.

I finally figured out how to live in the present, but now I find it almost impossible to deal with the future. I’m sure I can come up with something, though. (Saving $5k sounds like a pretty good start, come to think of it.) I just need to find some balance.