Things happen in life that totally blow plans out of the water. I like to plan. I like to know what's happening today, tomorrow, the rest of the week. I plan my meals on Monday for the entire week. I have a cleaning schedule of different parts of the house I clean each day. I have a set time to do my writing (during Avery's nap). We eat meals at the same time each day (usually). You get the idea.
Clearly I have control issues. But I've learned that no matter how much you plan, those plans can go awry. Luckily, I think I'm easy-going enough that when plans do fall through, I don't freak out- too much.
Like last week- I was at my parents house until Tuesday night. On Wednesday I didn't want to bother with my cleaning so I ignored it for the rest of the week. I also spent those few days at my parents eating like a cow. It didn't help that I brought mounds of fudge from Waterton home with me, or that my husband had stocked our pantry while I was gone with bags of candy (including 3 bags of my fave- Swedish berries), bags of chips, boxes of cookies, and an alarming amount of chocolate bars. (That's why I don't let him shop.) So my "eating healthy" plan blew up in my face. Or more accurately- my belly.
Then there was the goal I had set for myself- finish Jessica Book 2 by July 1st. Ha. I barely wrote at all in June because I was focused on fixing my query, and going through a reader's edits.
Today is Monday, and I'm determined to get back on track. My house desperately needs cleaning, my body is begging for something healthy, and even though I have new edits to go through on book 1, I have set a new goal to finish book 2 by September.
I need to have plans. Otherwise I'd sit around and do nothing all day. Having plans forces me to get things done. Having goals forces me to work towards accomplishing them.
And when I don't? When my best laid plans fall through... well, I shrug my shoulders, try not to beat myself up about it, and get myself back on track.