To those that know me, I am a meticulous planner. Every detail must be in place for me and done ahead of time. I know this probably is hard for some people to handle. After all, if you don't know me well it seems like I just like to tell people what to do. The truth of the matter is, without the planning I put into my life, I wouldn't be able to live happily.

When I was in high school, I attended classes for seven hours a day, had at least six hours of homework each night, tutored after class, volunteered over a hundred hours during the school year and worked eight hour shifts at work each day during the weekend. For a while I was able to juggle this workload. I didn't get a lot of sleep and had very little free time, but I did manage to get it all done. Then I added even more to the equation and I reached my breaking point. When I began to apply to colleges, the time required to write and edit essays, submit applications and visit schools made it impossible to do everything I had once done. Ideally I would have realized this pretty early on in the year, but I didn't. I tried to do it all and boy, did it backfire. Sleep was the first thing to go, but it was nothing coffee couldn't solve. Within two months my body was responding to the immense stress I was experiencing in a very rare way. My body was breaking out in stress bruises. (It should be noted that before this I had been hit in the face with softballs and didn't even bruise.) To see my arms, legs and torso covered in raised bruises, in various colors ranging from blue and purple to green and yellow, was alarming. I had done nothing noticeable to these parts of my body, so it became clear that something was wrong.

I ended up quitting my job after I had a break down at the register and had to cry in the back before closing. I put my two weeks in and was on the path to getting my stress level down. While still having a lot on my plate, I had made the coping a bit easier. As I continued to juggle new challenges, deadlines and expectations, I had to find a better way to cope with potential stressors in my life — bruising and the stress that accompanied it wasn't something I wanted to return to. I became a meticulous planner. I research the things that I do because I want to know what I can expect. My plans are very important to me because without them, the cloud of stress creeps back into my life.

There are definitely people who can't handle my planning and the order I try to keep in my life. I get it, no one likes the person who tells you they already finished the paper you are freaking out about. Not everyone likes to go someplace with a list and map of every cool attraction of a city. I understand that I am not everyone's cup of tea because of the way I have to operate. I just wish they understood that I don't do this so I can be a know-it-all or be in charge of a group. I would love to sit back and have it all planned for me, but uncertainty and chaos are not good for me. I don't plan because I like to plan. I plan because I can't not know what is going to happen.