The Mother of All Plans

I am a planner. It is what I do. It is what I enjoy. I plan and I can't help myself. There. I've said it.

In less than two weeks, my husband and I are taking a long weekend and going to Walt Disney World. However, until last night, I hadn't planned any of the details. What is the reason, you ask? The reason is, that I liked knowing I still had all of that planning ahead of me. I couldn't wait to do it, but somehow, it was comforting knowing that I still had it to do. There was still planning to be done. I was saving it--for fun. This is the kind of sick mind I possess.

Last night, I asked if my husband would consider doing the planning with with me. It would be a team effort. We've been married eleven years. He knows exactly what this means. He generously agreed anyway. I was ecstatic! We put on music and closed the blinds. We made cocktails. He grabbed his laptop and I grabbed books and maps and notepaper.

We decided which parks to go to on what days. We listed out every attraction we wanted to see. We decided where to eat and at what time so we can make our dinner reservations. We used the a detailed map of each park to determine the order in which we should see the attractions so that no time would be wasted.

I now have a plan. I now have a full itinerary of what we will see and do on those days and I know exactly how we will do it. It was extraordinarily satisfying.

Here's the kicker. It took 5 hours. WE PLANNED FOR 5 HOURS STRAIGHT.

My husband deserves a medal for putting up me.