It’s a quiet day here at the office. Since there’s no one around to cover my lunch hour, I thought I’d just kick back, eat the leftovers I brought this morning, and write something. I have occasional deep thoughts, but they usually show up in the middle of the night, and I’m not inclined to pull myself out of a warm bed to write them down. So you get the drivel of my daytime thoughts.
Often those thoughts involve planning of some sort. Yes, I’m a planner, and there isn’t a thing I can do about it. I’ve passed this gene down to my daughter, who passed it down to her daughter. There might be no end to it. Mauri often says: “Beware a woman with a plan.” He’s right, though sometimes good things come from planning.
It didn’t take much to get my planning gears in motion once word reached me that a 50th high school class reunion is being planned in my hometown for September 2013. That’s an entire year away, twelve months of 30 or so days each. A lot can happen over the course of a year, but I don’t let that stop me from planning to attend. Of course I’ll plan to slim the torso between now and then. That’s a given. Who wants to show up at a class reunion looking like they’d eaten in the past 50 years? Thanks to Facebook, I’ve made some headway in reconnecting with some of my classmates (so there will be no fooling them about the eating thing). In fact it was Facebook that provided these distressing pictures of my school.
By the time a whole year passes, what I will visit instead of my school and all its memories will be a field of green grass or worse still—another building.
I know all about progress. I can’t deny its value to my (relatively) small hometown in Illinois. It’s just that their timing is a little off.
And my timing says get back to work!