Planning

Like I've said before, I love planning.  I love organizing and laying things out.  I experience a little bit of euphoria when everything is in its own little place.  Squared away.  I'm sure it has something to do with the illusion of control.

Another from the 'Like I've said before' file is my tendency to become overwhelmed when there are too many options.  Hence, my messy house.  Hence also, a major trip just a month away, hardly planned.

Do you know how many Bed & Breakfasts there are in the UK?  In Scotland?  It's hard enough to narrow down the list of possible places to visit within the British Isles, but to then have to chip away at the massive block that is UK Accommodations is dizzying.  I've hardly made any decisions and I think my head might just toppled off my shoulders.  This trip began as a Scotland trip only, but with the Icelandic Ash, the chance that the volcano might get cranky again, we decided to drive it.  And since we're driving anyway, why not stop over in the English Countryside to see some things in case we don't make it back to the UK for a while?  Good, fine.  But there are a lot of towns and beautiful and amazing things I'm sure we should see, and I don't have the tolerance for on-line research Chris possesses.  I can only Google and open tab upon tab upon tab of new information and read and compare for so long before I start getting a little frazzled.  So which ones?  Which places?  Am I really complaining about the fact that I can't decide where to visit on my trip to Scotland and the English Countryside?  No, not really...just whining a little over my inability to make decisions and my impatience for not just knowing all I'd like to know without all the work.  I'm freaking out excited, but can't tell yet for the lists of hotel and B&B names and contact info and rates and dates.

So as a blog is often just a journal on-line, that's what I've been focusing on today.  That and checking my gmail account every half hour since I e-mailed in my first assignment for the publishing house in Stuttgart I mentioned briefy before.  (No pressure, Jim.)  I may have taken my time, more out of nerves than anything else, to get started, but if there is no immediate response of either severe repulsion or exuberant enthusiasm, my worrisome mind tells me upon reading my work, the response was something along the lines of unimpressed blahness.  As any person who embraces any artistic medium will likely agree, any strong reaction is better than an apathetic one.  So I'm not going to think about that one anymore tonight.  People are busy, after all.

And I've GOT to walk away from the Scotland research, and when and how we should see Stonehenge.  Should I scrap a whole day so we can make it down for an all-day tour that ends at this magnificent and mysterious site, so we can have semi-private access at sunset for photographs and wonder?  Or do we drive there on our own during regular daytime hours and do what we can to crop the other tourists out of the shots and look at the sunrise and sunset pictures online, pretending we saw it with a red sky behind?  One's certainly cheaper, and fits better into our schedule...but semi-private viewing!  If the British Pound rate could just plummet for a bit, that'd be swell.

Okay.  I am walking away.  I am going to get ready for bed and I am going to read for a while.  By the way, read The Help, by Kathryn Stockett.  I'm only halfway through, but it's wonderful so far.  Love it.  Read it.