Oh. My. Word.

My friend Brandy has described me as laid-back. And that’s true. Sometimes.

I like plans. I don’t plan out every minute of my day (and should I ever start doing so, you all have my permission to slap some sense into me), but I do have a general idea of how I want or need the day to go.

Take today, for example. I went to work with this plan that involved getting to work, paying some contracts, going to buy bikes and other gifts for gift drive our department sponsored, editing some devotions, and enlisting some writers. There would be lunch in there somewhere, maybe a snack, and I’d leave about 3:30 p.m and go hang out with Running.

Guess what? IT DIDN’T HAPPEN THAT WAY!

Actually, things went fairly well until about 3 p.m. when I got an email about a meeting at church I was supposed to be at in the evening. A meeting I realized was happening, but had forgotten about, and also had never received any actual information about. You know, like where it was, when it was, what I might need to bring. . . little things like that.

So, I spent a lot of time trying to find out when and where the meeting was. I called the church. I called the person who enlisted me to help with Upward Cheerleading coaching. I called the woman in charge of Upward at our church. And no one was there to answer my calls. Finally, one of the ladies called me back and I discovered the meeting was at 6 p.m.

OK, here’s where my non-laid-backness comes into play. I had stayed at work later than I intended because I was in the devotion editing zone and was waiting on a return email from the people at church. It was now 4 p.m. I had to be at church at 6 p.m. And I had to drop something by a friend’s house, walk the dog, go to Target to find a gift, and somewhere in there, find something to eat.

I had this plan for today and it was crumbling to tiny little pieces. I wasn’t going to have time to run. I wasn’t going to have time to relax before having to be somewhere. I was going to make my dog mad at me for the running-in-and-running-right-back-out thing. I was tired. I wanted to run and go home and cook spaghetti. I had recently looked in a mirror and discovered I looked about as attractive as a zombie and who really wants to look like the undead? To top it all off, I’m just really tired of having to live my life this way.

My plans for this afternoon got torn to pieces, and I can’t honestly say I was happy about it. I was mad that the afternoon wasn’t going the way I’d planned.

But now, I’m at home in a pair of my favorite pajamas curled up in the big chair with my dog (who has forgiven me for leaving the hit-and-run walk this afternoon) who doesn’t care that I look like the undead.

It’s going to be a good Monday night. And tomorrow is another day.