Just Call Me Flo

In my ideal reality, I'm a go-with-the-flow, roll-with-the-punches, carpe diem kind of gal, with a sparkle of cliche on top, apparently.

In my real reality, I'm a planner. I relish a good plan. I plan, I schedule, I plan some more. I don't just have Plan A. I have Plan B. And C. And D. And, well, sometimes E. I've gotten better since the peeps arrived on the scene. After all, with two toddlers a person can get all the way to Plan Z and still be screwed.

That's why at this time in my life I'm itchy, fidgety, and restless. While I have a general plan mapped out for the next several months (wife, mom, grad school), there are certain elements that I have no control over, no say in. How these missing pieces fall into place will greatly alter my general plan. Even though I know everything will work out the way it is supposed to, the uncertainty and the not knowing what's around the corner make me insane.

Yet, in a strange way, I feel like every day is Christmas morning, and I'm eagerly awaiting my turn to open a present. Any day now, a piece could drop into place and I could drift toward a new path, one I might have never even considered had I concocted a plan. I just need to be open to these new gifts and recognize them as such. The best way to do that? Just call me FLO.