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planet plan it

2004-08-08 - time emit

When you can hear your neighbor upstairs mixing something in a bowl, you know the walls are too thin.

When you can see your ribs, or any of your organs, you know you are too thin.

Sometimes I think my life is going too fast, even in the way I eat. My friend Philippo puts both his feet on the floor before he eats and breathes in really deep before each bite he takes, to where you can hear him. That seems utterly silly to me but I could learn from him. I could learn from a lot of people. Even when I tell myself to slow down, it won't always come.

I think there are planners in life and non planners. I'm not a planner. I still have yet to tell two of my girlfriends the dates that I'll be home in a week . One of my other friends knows, only because she had enough intuit to email me and ask, hey aren't you coming home? She's always been so good with details. Nothing scares me more than the phrase "attention to detail a must". I meant to get in touch with her that day, but my synapses must've misfired. Then my friends think I don't want to see them. All of those guys are great planners, even when they're sick, drunk or pregnant.

I'm thinking what if I have a child or two and they want me to help plan the prom or something. You can't tell your kids I'm not a good planner, sorry. I don't even think I'll plan for a baby, I think it'll be something that just kind of happens at some point.

I see people all the time that have their trips mapped out perfectly. Generally, I obsess on 100 possibilies until they narrow themselves down to a cool five or six options, and I'm exhausted. I don't understand how people are able to get everything in such working order! I don't! Sometimes it bothers me, and I feel gypped out of such an admirable skill, and other times I am grateful that God didn't bless me with a tax expert's set of thoughts. Numbers. A painting of a muted pastel waterfall. Cold steel file cabinets. Unresponsive spouse. The other day while sitting with the tax guy on extension, (because I didn't plan correctly) I was laughing to him because he had some of his files arranged by letter but the order of them looked funny, like it said "a deaf bitch"

A D-EF B-CH

He laughed too, and wouldn't stop laughing because he had just thought of an acronym joke (an overused bad one)

"Hey! Hey! Here's one you're gonna love! Look at this. The IRS. What does it spell when you put it together??"

"Theirs."

"Funny huh? I can't get over it."

Then he asked me did I want to mail the signed paperwork? Or else come in and sign it in a couple of weeks. I told him I wasn't planning to, no.

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