Plan B.

Plan B.


Our life is a little atypical these days. We commute to St Louis 4 days a week for our jobs, then hop on a plane Thursday night and head home to Atlanta for 3 days. And do it all again Monday morning.

It is what it is. It’s plan B. Or more like plan J.

I’m not completely sure what the first 12 plans were, but they didn’t involve flying twice a week and building a new community where we only live on the weekends. And it certainly didn’t involve being away from our beloved dog 50% of the time.

But this is working. Actually really pretty well. Our jobs are amazing because the people and culture at our jobs are amazing. Southwest is easy and surprisingly on-time (knocking on lots of wood right now). And we’re doing it together.

It’s more stressful than not commuting to another city, but it’s a lot less stressful than moving, adopting and changing jobs all at the same time.

So we’re making it work for now.

Like so many people are.

Most of us aren’t on plan A at this point. For whatever reason. Because life.

But in sharing my plan J, I’ve realized that there are two reactions.

1. Wow. Tell me about that.
2. Wow. That’s horrible.

And in getting fiercely defensive to reaction 2, I’m realizing how often I pulled a reaction 2. Whether to someone’s face or behind their back.

I too often remarked to my husband after hearing someone’s plan that it sounded crazy. Yuck. Being on the other side of it has been a well-deserved smack up side my head.

No more.

Instead, I hope to root for others and pray for them and have their backs. To support them with a “Wow. Good on you for doing the thing!”

Because when we’re on plan J we need more encouragement and less naysaying. All of us.

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