Have you ever reached a point in your life where you realized you have no idea what you’re doing?

Well, I came to that point last night.

(To be honest, I come to that point about once a semester, but each time it’s just as fresh and new and terrifying as the last.)

I don’t know what sets me off, but every so often I look around me and think, “Huh, I am absolutely and completely lost in a world of overachievers and go-getters.”

And then I typically call my mom, cry, stress her out, and feel better for at least a few months.  Hunter should be reeeeeally excited to assume the position of my emotional confidant.

But the most disturbing part of my biannual identity crises is that, no matter how old I get (and I turn 26 in three months, which is OLD), I never feel any closer to figuring this whole “life” thing out.

Case(s) and point(s).

My sister Rachel has great ambitions.  She’s working on her PhD.  My friend Kristina has great ambitions.  She’s also working on her PhD.  My boyfriend just got a job as a petroleum engineer, my undergrad roommate is working to become a nurse anesthetist, my friends Brittany and Stacey just popped out baby girls, and I’m, well…I’m still here.  Wandering about the same state I was born in, rewatching Sex and the City episodes and sleeping later than I care to admit.

It’s not that I think I’m without accolades…I’m 6 months away from receiving my master’s degree, and I’ve done things here and there to make people pat me on the back and say, “good job, kiddo.”

My problem is that while everyone else seems to be chasing grandiose dreams, I’m pretty much just lost in the clouds.  Appeased by the moment.  Content to live day by day and not think about the bigger picture.

Can anyone out there relate?

In an attempt to keep me from teetering off into a full-blown, PMS style meltdown, my mother told me last night that my lackadaisical attitude is, in and of itself, a redeeming quality.  I live completely immersed in the immediate moment, while so many people waste their time anticipating the future.  And the future never comes, my friends.

Then she said something like “life is what happens when you’re making other plans,” which is what she always says when I flip out like this, and I let my ego be momentarily stroked by the idea of being a “carpe diem” kind of girl.

Hunter also offered a considerable boost to my morale when he said his ridiculous planning skills have bit him in the rear on more than one occasion.  Apparently it’s not always helpful to plan super far in advance, although the ability to plan a single day in advance is a talent I still wish I possessed.

But no matter how lovingly my Type A comrades tell me I’m fine the way I am, I can’t help wishing I was a little more like them.  More oft than not, the world celebrates people with plans of action…while those of us without are left wondering how we got where we are.

Chances are I’ll be like this my entire life.  I’m slowly learning to accept that fact.  My father is largely like me (or I suppose I’m largely like him), and he’s managed to achieve great things despite his inability to plan ahead or organize his life or remember what he did with any of his possessions (most specifically his keys).

But even though I’m learning to live with my shortcomings, there will always be a part of me that wishes I was following some unseen pathway.  It just seems like life would be easier with a plan.

So if you have friends who are more Type Z than they are Type A, grant them your patience, guidance, and perhaps a big bear hug from time to time.

For though not all who wander are aimless, the majority of us are.

Much love.

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dreams, Hunter, Sex and the City, wandering aimlessly