Eggs in baskets

I mentioned Sunday that I recently made a three-year plan for myself. In a flurry of excitement, I mapped out a potential three years spanning several states and, quite possibly, continents, and which included anywhere from 1-3 grad school programs. It was exciting. It was fun. It was so incredibly unrealistic.

Part of that was implied, of course--I can't seem to help myself from wanting to prepare for every possible contingency. Putting all my eggs in one basket has never been a temptation for me. I know I won't get to do everything on my list; it's physically impossible for me to do so, and that's the way I like it.

But. I now have a separate browser window with five tabs in it perpetually open, daring me to begin. Five tabs, innumerable tasks within: one program application for this year (including 3 recommendations to be gotten, for some of which I don't know whom to ask); one job application for this year (which I really really want, and so am paralyzed from actually applying for, lest I am refused); one scholarship application for next year (read: turn in this year, complete with dozens of essays, responses, resumes, recommendations, and of course transcript-getting, with a very slim chance of success); one grad school-ish program for next summer (applications aren't open yet, but I need to do more research); one page of the top 50 MFA programs in America for next year (to sort through and determine which are worth applying to--and then cue the actual portfolio preparation and application process).

My next step: send a couple of emails. Shouldn't be that hard. Really shouldn't be that hard. But something in me doesn't want to start the process; doesn't want to wade into that pile of paperwork and admit that it's actually time to move forward, time to make another major decision about my life, time to get back to reality. Reality is scary. Reality is scary when you don't have a plan, and it's even scarier when you do, but that plan requires dozens of hard-to-move pieces to come into perfect alignment--or else, failure.

But of course I have to--and I will, if only because failure comes inevitably to those who don't move forward. I'll find a way to move forward, and I'll find a way to make at least one of my contingency plans work, or else I'll invent more until something works.

And in the meantime, I'll sit down and write an email. It's not three years, but it's a start.