Plans

Over the weekend, my mentor asked me what my plans are.
She told me that your 20s are for making mistakes and that by your 30s you should have a plan. Spoiler Alert: I'm 33.
I was mildly annoyed because I got the feeling that she felt that I don't have a plan for my life. Like I'm not awake nights, very aware that I am 7 years from 40, and that I have wasted so much time thinking about going to grad school that I could have had a Ph.D in something by now. I told her that I do have a plan and I do...I think. But in the event that that this "plan" falls through, your guess is as good as mine as to where I am going to end up. My crystal ball is showing me a grocery cart full of my journals and a makeshift bed under a bridge. And I hate the outdoors, so that would really suck!
In my 20s, I read an article that advised young college grads to say that they worked well under pressure in job interviews. The article suggested that potential employers like that. So I began to say that in interviews and, sure enough, I got two internships. I guess I have been saying that lie so long that I actually began to believe it honey, because I don't work at all under pressure. Just typing about the anxiety related to the very sad, possibly impending, horrifying possibility that my plans may fall all the way through is making me want to crawl unto a ball, sucking my thumb.
In my 20s, I thought I was mortified that I wouldn't become a great writer. 30 was the deadline. Now that I am over 30 writing a blog that no one reads, I realize now that I wasn't mortified, I was concerned. What I am feeling today, right now as I type, THIS is mortified!
When I was a little kid, I couldn't tell certain animals apart. I just couldn't see the difference between a monkey, a gorilla, an ape, and an orangutan. As an adult, I seem to have the same issue. I just can't comprehend the difference between a goal, a wish, a dream, and a plan. Life has taught me the correlation between employment and shelter thought, and I think that should show for something.
What is the plan for the rest of my day? I was going to make some tea then take a nap before Judge Judy came on, but I think my plan should probably be planning out the rest of my life. 40 will get here quicker than 30 did, and I would like to spend the big 4-0 in my house with my man, not on the curb with a tin can. The scary thing: the choice is mine based on my plan. Again, MORTIFIED.