I am a firm believer in The Plan B. I can get myself tangled up in just about any kind of nonsense as long as I have a viable Plan B with a quick turn around time. I hate the unknown so much, that if I find myself having to enter unchartered waters, then knowing that I can always abandon ship and paddle back toward other, more familiar and comfortable streams, then I’m somewhat more calm.
When I was playing in the band, things were going pretty well.
but eventually things slowed down a lot.
My Plan B at this time was that I would make my own solo record.
I did that and after it drained my bank account, when it became apparent that it was not going to win me 12 Grammys and rocket me to super-stardom, my Plan B was to go back to school.
I did just that and started my Social Work degrees from 2002-2007.
When I signed up for Social Work school my Plan B if I didn’t like it, was that I would get my legal assistant training so I could get a job wearing fancy clothes and looking for all the world like a less sexual Joan on Mad Men.
When I finished my degree and discovered that actually doing Social Work was the hardest, most unappreciated form of work ever, I figured my Plan B would be to sit on my arse and host crafting parties for my friends. I did do this and quite enjoyed it.
My Plan B for if I was never able to sit on my arse all day and just host crafting parties for my friends was to move back to live with my mother.
I thought it would be quirky and kooky and we could be all Grey Gardens.
|It's uncanny how much these two look just like my mother and me.|
She since sold the house and moved into a small apartment, so I had to find an alternative Plan B.
My Plan B was to find a handsome, rich man and marry him.
Well, I found a handsome man. And I married him. He is still working on winning the lottery. Taking his bloody time about it.
When Brian and I moved in together and eventually married, my Plan B if he ever left me would be to get a condo and decorate it all in white and start collecting art.
So far, I have been saved this Plan B, and I much prefer our ... um... eclectic decorating style as long as it comes with his company. But, in my weird little mind, I need there to be some kind of upside to the possibility of Brian not being in my life. I’m hard pressed to imagine an upside, actually, and that’s not just newlywed talk.
If he left me for another woman, I imagine she’d look like this:
When in reality, she’d probably look like this:
I don’t imagine I’ll have to worry too much about Brian leaving me. I am the closest thing to a human version of Rosie the Robot Maid on the Jetsons that he will ever find.
So really, who he would end up leaving me for is this:
And she probably already has a boyfriend, so I think I'm safe.
In the event that Brian leaves or dies or whatever, this is whatever this is what I imagine my Plan B will look like:
In reality it will probably look like this:
So please don’t bugger off on me, Brian. My Plan B needs work.