What am I doing.

I have been hearing a lot lately about five year plans, and while I can't argue that they're not a good idea, my five year plan usually doesn't go much further then "I'm going to make banana muffins tomorrow." And even then, sometimes tomorrow rolls around and I'd rather do something more important instead... like extended napping.


Where do I see myself in five years? Who knows. Life decisions are always so hard.. sometimes it's a lot easier to just let the time slip by ... until you're a 24 year old woman living on an isolated island spending a good portion of her time rocking out with the greatest nine year old ever to amazing David Bowie songs.

Honestly, though? My 19 year old self would be so impressed. My big ambition after high school ended was, "I'm going to take some time off and figure things out." Somehow, "figuring things out" turned into a really long vacation with a ton of delivery pizza, pantsless weekdays, getting out of bed at noon and watching an obscene amount of the Gilmore Girls. The prospect of Phlebotomy didn't go much further than "Oh, gross." and living next to the ocean seemed like a distant dream.

I really like the idea of being free right now, but I also understand the importance of having some vague assemblance of A Direction. Kind of how I'd like to have prettier ankles in six months, or how I'd like to finish every single book on my bookshelf by 2008*, or you know ... go to university, become a teacher, learn all the lyrics to Subterreanan Homesick Blues, etc.

I've always had a hard time finding a clear focus for my future. I could immediately draw you a picture of the interior design of my dream home, but God forbid I know what city, or even area of the country I'm living in or what grade I want to teach. (I have it currently broken down to High School and Grades 4 - 7. Kindergarten involves way too many mysteriously sticky jam hands and I remember Grade Eight too well to ever want to be in it permanently.)

The countdown has begun for leaving my island -- December the 13th is the planned for date. My dad's going to come pick me up, because he is awesome, and because we can bond Father Daughter style to the collected musical works of B.J. Thomas, Willie Nelson, and at least one playing of Kenny Rogers' "The Gambler". This all works out because, while I hadn't mentioned it before, I had been half-assedly searching for a home here for Jax, but now that I'm being picked up I can bring him with us. .... so he can meow angrily, ceaselessly for 24 hours straight.

But I'm still experiencing twinges of uncertainty about leaving. I want to go back to university, but I've also got home, a family and a good job here. I get pretty stir crazy sometimes, but all I have to do is look up at the big sky, or the rolling ocean, or the clarity of stars and I feel a little content. I'm not sure if the things I love here, though, are enough to make up for the things I miss... the sound of trains, thunderstorms, Old Navy. Is it shallow to think that the ocean can't entirely make up for incredibly inexpensive shirts and fun purses? Probably.

Me and Brad are going to move out together this summer, or that's how the Plan currently goes. We're looking seriously at Vancouver Island, we just need the cash to make it all happen.... and the drive. Also on my list? P.E.I., or rocking quaint American apartments in Minnesota with the Neets. It seems like every day the branches of my fig tree multiply ... but at least I'm getting closer to picking which branch I want to take.**

*This is going real well. The only books I have left to read are: Maggie Cassidy - Jack Kerouac, The Complete Plays of Christopher Marlowe, The Scarlet Letter and The Encyclopedia of Magical Creatures. ... I think.

** When I feel deep, I reference the Bell Jar, bitches.

Labels: Sarah Land