All the haircuts

I have gone through my life wanting one thing after another after another after another and getting excited about the next thing to come before I've even had a chance to enjoy my present situation. No one would say I'm good at living in the moment.

As soon as I chop off my hair, I am already working on growing it back out to long. Even while I'm landing a new job, I still stare longingly at listings for other, equally cool opportunities. Are we eating out together? Better snatch the menu out of my hand as soon as I look like I've made up my mind, because the second I say, "Cheese plate," I'm already regretting not ordering the gnocchi du jour. I want all the haircuts. All the jobs. All the entrees on the menu. I am greedy for experiences.

For example, the moment I moved into our apartment in Cleveland, I thought to myself, "Awesome! Great view of the Cleveland skyline, bamboo floors, tons of natural light and walking distance to more food and beer than you can shake a stick at." Fifteen seconds later, I was on Padmapper ogling the second floor of a duplex in Lakewood and simultaneously trying to figure out how to afford buying a fixer-upper in Tremont.

Though using my arms as the graph lines for supply and demand is near to the only thing I took away from college economics, I remember learning with both a tremendous sense of recognition and pain the term "opportunity cost," as what I insensitively imagine it is like for a dyslexic person to learn what dyslexia is. I don't just want to have my cake and eat it, too, I want your cake, and also cookies and to be hiking in the mountains instead of eating.  (Also, this is why you should never go to Target with me. If it's between spending $20 on underwear or $20 on a set of canisters, I will do three laps around the store with both in my cart, then abandon everything in electronics and leave, empty-handed and defeated.)

Opportunity cost has always been my greatest source of stress. Though I consider my life incredibly full of fortune and happiness, I can't stop myself from planning ahead and weighing all my future options as though they are immediately impending. (Though I should pause to say that the one part of my life devoid of this feeling is my marriage to El Greco.)

I'm afraid this incessant planning keeps me from really ever immersing myself full-on in any experience. I enjoy living in Detroit Shoreway immensely, but I know I've barely scratched the surface of what all it has to offer. And even though there's half a year left on our lease, I think almost every day about how fun it would be to also live on West Clinton, or in Tremont, Ohio City or Lakewood. Thank God I know next to nothing about the east side, or my head would literally explode with options.

So it's time to prioritize, at least when it comes to Cleveland-specific goals. Where do I want to visit? Where should I try to live? Who should I meet? Where should I get involved? (Please note: Despite my excitement about doing everything, I've done next to nothing so far, so don't worry about suggesting anything too obvious.) While I'm mulling it all over, I invite your suggestions! Lay 'em on me.