A very long time ago, about 23 years I believe, I had just started college. A young lad of 17 set loose in a small college town at a mid-sized school.
One drunken night, I got in an argument with someone over turning in our design projects on time (which I always did) and turning in something that resembled what the instructor asked for (which I rarely did).
I believe the conversation contained the words “Don’t you worry about your career?!?” (it was college, we used multiple ? and ! points all the time).
Every loser bastard I had ever met was concerned about their career, how to cover their ass and make sure they never rocked the boat enough to get in trouble… and here I was at the spawning of such behaviour. A routine established early on by petty authority to be meek, uninspired and routine. The onset of a lifetime toeing the line, drinking the kool aid and being a good little monkey for spineless assholes who thought that was how the world worked. (I was drunk and I liked to ramble).
So, I scoffed at his mundane and tepid concerns, and on the spot came up with my version, the Life Plan.
The Life Plan
My 20s : Do whatever came my way. Basically fuck off and figure out the world.
My 30s : Decide what I was going to do, and become the best at it.
My 40s : Become famous to some degree.
My 50s : Start my own Justice League, assemble the best people I knew and so something amazing
My 60s : Travel the world
My 70s : Write
That’s it. No, millionaire before 45, no married with kids before 35, nothing. Some things don’t need to be timed, the universe has a way of putting me where it needs me, and I’m good with that.
What’s your plan?
(FYI, watching Mad Men makes me want to swap the 40s for the 50s.)