My Name is Rachel, and I am a Planner

I am a planner.  I plan things.  I plan most things. My Outlook calendar is intense. And I'm confused and inspired by non-planning types. I've always envied the easygoing people of the world.  The non-planners.  The go-with-the-flow-ers. The spontaneously-drive-to-Utah-because-it's-Utah people.  From my perspective they have an almost superpower ability to shut out the world's responsibilities and simply love what the world provides for entertainment.  I do find that rather amazing. 

I've always wanted to be easygoing.  And many of the adventures I've pursued and the avocations I've loved (Peace Corps, acting, traveling) have surrounded me with people whose laidback attitude gave me a glimpse of what a non-Type A person gets out of life.  But even as a Peace Corps volunteer (and all the hippie mojo that requires) I was rabid about my lesson-planning.  Diligent in my use of Arabic flashcards.   I even think I asked my mom to mail me American index cards because the Moroccan ones I found were a different (read: wrong) size than I preferred.  I, of course, had to tame my uber-planner tendencies to adapt to Third World timetables and over time I came to cherish how slow the world moved there.  But I was never really relaxed, always happy but always anxious.

 I used to be embarassed by my planning obsession.  Invites sent weeks in advance.  Reservations made with a keen eye to how long we'd want at dinner before making it to the theater with enough time for a cocktail and a few minutes to read our programs in undimmed seats.  Drives to new places with half an hour to spare, just in case there was traffic, just in case elephants escaped from the zoo and comandeered the bridge.  I brushed aside the importance of planning when casually talking about future activities to friends.  It's no big deal.  Come whenever you like. Just RSVP when you get an idea of your number. Sure, you can bring your brother, boyfriend, stepchild, dog, clown school instructor.  I'm totally easygoing.  Totally.

I don't apologize for it anymore, which I assume must be a sign of age, maturity, and/or acceptance that there's no fighting my base nature.  And now I love this side of me.  I've seen the anxiety in friends tasked with planning a shindig and I get great joy in relieving others of that stress and crafting things myself.  Just as it stresses some people to no end when they have to plan an event, it stresses me when I have no control over avoiding disaster, rearranging mistakes, smoothing wrinkles, and just making sure everyone is happy. 

And that's what it's always about.  Happiness.  I love to watch people smiling, laughing, relaxing because they know they have no responsibilities, nothing to do, nothing to contribute other than joy.  I like the noise of conversation, waves and hellos thrown across rooms, hugs.  Within the wide confines of planning, I am spontaneous and brave.  The structure I can bring to a day gives me great latitude to craft the experiences I want, unhampered by last demands on my time. 

Tonight I'm hosting 60+ people for a dessert function.  I have some cleaning to do, but also planned into my day: a run, lunch with a friend, errands, and a good chunk of time devoted to running the iPod on some bad 80s Roxette numbers and dancing around with the dog barking.  The trick, I think, in making a Type A life a happy one is the focus of The Plan.  Planning for the constant mitigation of disaster is exhausting and soul-crushing.  But planning for happiness, that can never end poorly.