There’s no manuscript for adulting but, boy, do I wish there was! Tonight, I had a plan: come home from work, cook a dinner of pork chops and veggies, and go to bed. My plan was fool-proof—almost.
As I was cutting my freshly cooked and perfectly seasoned pork chops, the unthinkable happened: my plate tumbled off the counter and onto the floor, pork chops face down! I wanted to cry.
My schedule makes for a long day so when I say I’m tired, I mean it. I felt, in that moment, that I had failed at the most basic thing an adult could do: prepare dinner for one’s self.
In the midst of my mishap, I realized I had a choice in the matter: I could cry and feel defeated, while throwing away my cooked food, and settle for eating cereal as my last meal of the night, or I could do my best to salvage the situation. I chose the latter. And in doing so, creativity ensued and I now have lunch for tomorrow.
Sometimes, plans fail. Life happens. You get your heart broken or lose a job. Or, like me, you drop your food on the kitchen floor. What happens next? Will you sulk in defeat and give up, or will you try again and/or come up with a new plan?