"Self-respect is the fruit of discipline."
I've always been obsessed with this concept. It's as though I really believe that if I am disciplined and work hard, and do everything right, I can be perfect and safe. But where is this taking me?
A while ago I tried to make a list of 101 things that I wanted to accomplish in the next 1001 days; the list was infested with things like "look into further retirement preparation," "re-prioritize investments," "build additional savings," "organize recipes," "organize holiday materials," "pay off student loan." Shouldn't I have first thought, "paint pottery," "learn how to crochet," "go to France," "skydive."
"Build additional savings?" For what? Plastic bins for my Easter shit?! Furthermore, I could only come up with 16 things. How terrible is it that the majority of my goals involved alphabetization or Consumer Reports? This is what I want in my published list of personal goals, "research and purchase a dining room table?" For the love of God, I'm researching furniture. I think I am finally losing it!
And of course my journal this year lists "New Years Resolution: Lead a more disciplined life."
Can you get more disciplined than having a will at 25? I even have a Porn Buddy. A designated friend with keys to my apartment, so that in the event of my death she will remove a bag with items I would prefer my grandmother not think I possess. I have a file labeled "In the event of Quiana's death," inside it is my will, a sheet of paper with all my account numbers and companies that need to be dealt with (insurance, bank accounts, etc.), and a list of music not to be played under any circumstances at my funeral (mostly angel related music).
Shouldn't I be scrapbooking shit? Or arranging flowers, or something? Instead of making earthquake kits and lecturing my parents on the value of renter's insurance??
Is it possible to be too prepared or is being neurotic and morbid simply my idea of fun? Is it ok to enjoy preparing for the worst that life has to offer?
You tell me.