Who says I'm not spontaneous?

Truly liberated living has never been my strong suit.  I like to plan.  And calculate.  And shop around.  I am the kind of person able to walk in and out of the store without buying anything--even if I needed something, found what I was looking for, and had the money to purchase it.

It's almost always worth thinking about a little more.

So it surprises me that I've just made plans to spend a week in London; traveling with an acquaintance that I barely know.  And I don't have any vacation time left this year.

But the airfare is so cheap it's like stealing (<$200 round-trip).  And we've got discount-bin lodging already arranged.  It's too good to be true!  I have to go--I'll regret it if I don't.

I might have to quit my job in order to free up time in my work schedule.

But that can be arranged.  I can always get another job.

Yes...I'm giddy.  It's an awful thing to post about when I never write anymore (I know, I know).

There is something significant just under the surface of this, though.  I'm trying to decipher what it says about me.

Just last weekend I was journaling about myself:  my nature, my identity, my character.  I spent the weekend at a family reunion catching up with aunts, uncles, cousins, and those indescribable "twice-removed" relations that you only see at biannual reunions.

In the past few years I haven't changed a bit:  same job, same house, same church, same friends, same haircut, same clothes, same car.

Sure, it's good to be consistent (particularly when you're talking about weightier things like character).  But wow...It's a bit disturbing when you're on a two-year cycle of conversation and you can't answer the mundane question of "so, what's new?"

There is something substantial about me that is wire to be that way:  cautious, consistent, predictable.

But lately I've not entirely been that way.  Some racy, indiscriminate wrecklessness has crept out at times.  Sometimes it's fun--sometimes it gets me in trouble.  And sometimes (like now) it might mean taking a week off work unpaid (the horror!).

But truthfully?  I rather like it.  I myself don't always know what I'm going to do. 

There is something oddly reassuring in that.