If a scientist were to map my DNA, she'd find that my double helix is inexplicably missing the planning strand. Even when I do plan something, it rarely comes to fruition. This often ends in me spending a lot of time by myself.
Take Zanzibar for instance. I had planned on spending my first full day at the beach with A and Melissa, lounging and just taking it all in. After breakfast, we set off for a walk. I literally only made it about 20 feet before I was sidetracked by a tout wanting to take me snorkeling around a private island.
Leaving when?
Now.
Ok. Bye guys. See you when I get back. Whenever that may be.
Never mind that I was completely unprepared. No sunscreen. No hat. No towel. No problem.
And how did it turn out? Splendidly, of course. That's the thing about not planning. Things usually just work themselves out in the end. And if they don't, I almost always get a good story out of it. Or, in this case, about a million sea lice bites.
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