Keeping Promises

The phrase, best laid plans, as I have used it, has always related to my life plans and goals, and how oftentimes the planning was for naught. But I'd like to invite another way to use this phrase, and that is how it relates to promises I've made. Like many of you, I try to keep the promises I make. I'm no angel by any means but I try to keep my word. About a month ago, my friend Jessica told me that she and our friend Mary had made a pact to read War and Peace, and I don't know if I was wearing my Julie-Joiner hat or something, but I pretty much immediately jumped on board. I too promised to read this 1,215 paged book. Almost instantaneously, I wondered what the hell I was thinking. First of all, I am a slow reader, and second of all, it's freaking War and Peace. I could almost see the words as they floated out of my mouth and into Jessica's ears. I should have grabbed them and plucked them back into my head and used them for later promises - like the ones that involve a glass of wine or the new Charlaine Harris book. But no, a promise is a promise. It's true that neither Jessica or Mary would have put up any kind of argument if I had backed out, but who wants to be that person? Why back out when I can complain in a blog instead?

Team War and Peace began climbing this mountain over a month ago and I've proven only to be the bench warmer. I have yet to crack it open. Somewhere between my promise to read this verbal Everest and actually purchasing the book, I began reading The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo and became enthralled (along with the rest of America). But, because I'm such a slow reader, I've only just finished it. Now Jessica's in the 800's, Mary's almost in the 500's and I'm still trying to get through the title page.

So I guess my best laid plans realization here is that planning to keep a promise, and actually keeping it, at some point, have to merge. And I am currently at the meeting point.

So if you see a girl on the subway who looks like she's reading a rectangular-shaped boulder, that's just me hunkering down to process the 1,215 very, very small typed pages of Tolstoy's classic novel.

See you in a year!