‘You’ve got more plot coming’
This popped in my head this morning.
I was looking at some recent expenditures that didn’t feel big at the time.
But boy did they add up into one Big not so Beautiful credit card Bill.
And I realized, who is more grateful than me when it comes to being out and about? No one, that’s who.
The last few years have been a bit mental.
Losing Momma at 66 … and Sia at not-quite-30 ON THIS DAY nine years ago … and Janna at not-yet-50 … and Cocoa at 4 (sob) … and everyone else loved/lost … it fucks you up good.
I got in a fight in a “Mama June” community (LOL) when Josh said he’s middle-aged and everyone was so mad because he’s 30. Like WTF, youngster.
And I’m rattling off stats about how Boomers and now GenXers are dying younger than the Silent Generation. Like hey he is actually right at middle age, cuties.
Anyway I get into these moments where what’s the point in worrying about all my unfinished novels and unfinished work projects when the Grim Reaper is probably five or 10 years away.
But it’s not about time. It’s about quality of it.
I’ve got a lot of plot left.
And I will be over here trying to cram a lot of plot into those 5-10 years so that anything after that is a bonus.
So when I fret over this frankenvacation I’m plotting … that began with a two-night trip I bought from Ticketmaster Travel that’s now a multi-airport adventure … I will remind myself today’s me loves walking 35,000 steps a day.
A future, older me that “saved up” for it might not enjoy it so much.
I am trying to sell myself on “I’ll only do this once.” But future me is betting that it will do the trip better, so it thanks me for getting a first one down so she can plot a more efficient vacation.
Let’s just pay off this one first, future me, hey?
Anyway the reason this is a frankentrip is because I need to redo something that got messed up.
Also TBH the new leg is something I messed up a long time ago, too.
I mean, I didn’t mess it up. Poverty did.
I had gone on a work trip to a city. And the per diem was like $35. And the pay was horrid.
So when I wandered around and saw the thing I wanted to do was $100, I gulped.
Literally stood there and mentally counted my money a thousand times.
And … couldn’t do it.
Like, could not scrape together $100 to do it.
That same admission is like $200 today.
What I did do … and I am very happy with that … is I bought a souvenir for myself, and the same souvenir for Mom and Grampy to share.
I wasn’t sad about The Thing I Didn’t Get to Do after that.
I was happy to bring a little sunshine to people who deserved it too and didn’t get make it to the entrance like I did.
This trip is for Counseling Today me. Who at 30-ish was too buried in student loan debt and living in D.C. debt to also afford JOY.
I’m taking her back. And reclaiming HER plot.