When I was young, I never planned. My life felt like it rolled out before me like those endless Serengeti plains, forever another Champagne field stretching out ahead. But as I got older, as one does, and life was loaded with more responsibility, I came to accept the wagging-fingered truth of my grandmother, mother and older sister: planning is everything. Because time is a precious commodity.
A few friends I know have opted to take jobs that offer less money in return for owning more of their hours. Recently, when I took two days off, conveniently sandwiching a weekend, I saw their point. Or rather, I felt their point. I floated on my back in a tidal pool, thinking about nothing at all but the pleasure of the ice-cold water…
