Years and years of therapy have taught me many things about myself including but not limited to: I don’t like having dinner alone, anxiety should not be debilitating (that was a fun one), I hate yoga/meditation, exercising isn’t actually a form of modern torture, and I like to plan.

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Calendars, lists, schedules, color coding, all of it. For as long as I can remember, I have been deemed “afraid of the unknown.” I needed, and I guess still do, a clear picture of what was ahead. If I could figure out a way to imagine the upcoming day/event/activity with as much detail and clarity as possible, then I was generally able to ease my anxiety. And, since about 50% of my anxiety is perpetual (and luckily medicated), doing what I can to keep that other 50% at bay is essential to my sanity, and that of those around me.

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However, reality does not always play out the way I planned it in my head. The following essays set out to demonstrate this instinct of mine in a variety of societal and personal contexts, and what happens when those plans get flipped on their head, whether the result of a global pandemic or just what life throws at me. Some of these situations are ripe for obsessive planning, and others may seem a bit more out of the realm of normalcy; some are socially acceptable, while some are unique to me and my predisposition, all of which I hope will become clear throughout the essays.