|CHANGE OF PLANS • 09.01.16|
I love a good plan.
When I was 11, I decided I was going to college at Duke.
When I was 16, I decided I was going to study graphic design.
When I was 20, I decided I was going to work for a magazine.
(I did, I did, and I do.)
When Z and I moved to Winston-Salem in the summer of 2014, we had a plan, naturally.
When Z was 24, he would begin his final semester of college.
When Z was 25, he would graduate and begin applying for jobs.
When Z was 26, he would have a career in law enforcement.
(He did, he did, and he does.)
So the story goes.
We map out our lives – our days, our years – anticipating what is to come, working to achieve our dreams. We want to move forward, we want to know what comes next. We create timelines, create down payment accounts, create lists of saved house searches.
Sometimes, however, the universe has a different plan.
Sometimes, however, there is no such thing as a house on an acre or two of land that is not a fixer-upper.
Did I mention that I love a good change of plans?
Faced with the decision to give up our dream for land in order to purchase a move-in ready home, give up our dream for a non-fixer-upper in order to purchase a home on a couple of acres, or scrap the entire plan and build our own house, we did what any reasonable couple would do.
What if we moved into a downtown loft?
It was never part of the plan.
Yet here we are, nearly a month into this new chapter, living out a new dream, creating countless new memories. We find ourselves falling more in love with the city each day amidst the exposed brick walls of a refurbished tobacco plant, the same tobacco plant where both of my grandfathers worked a lifetime before I existed.
It was always part of the plan.
And what a good plan it's turned out to be.