1. Finish college with a degree in environmental science and a minor in horticulture.
  2. Get a job at some company, hopefully one I like, as an environmental impact consultant or something around those lines. Essentially, something that makes mega coin.
  3. Work with vertical growth/ hydroponics. This one has a 50/50 chance of happening.
  4. Open up my own nursery specializing in local growth and herbs. 
  5. The most important step; be a witch in the woods with my wife. Become a sort of local cryptid. Still sell herbs and “spells”, but only to people who know of me through word of mouth and close connections. No advertising at all. Not even a sign.

Well, that’s the plan at least, and I’m only half-joking about the last part. This step-by-step layout for my life is one that I’ve created because I think that would be a satisfying life. I wouldn’t want to work in one place for very long, I get really bored rather quickly, and I want to educate and aid companies when it comes to their environmental impacts. But then I want to work on my own. I have designs back at my house of how my nursery would work. My dad has even recommended the names “Chabelita’s Nursery” as that’s my nickname in my house. 

As somebody who didn’t think I’d live past the age of 18, and really didn’t think about my future until I turned 18, which was also the same day I got accepted into temple, the only college I had applied to. I didn’t try very hard in those 18 years because I had nothing to look forward to. Now I do, but what pushes me through the days, more than anything else, is my curiosity in what the future has to hold.  

The plan, in the beginning, is a dream, something I say when people ask me “so what do you want to do with your life?”. 

What I want from life, however, is a different story. To look back and smile with a tear of joy, sadness, but no remorse is what I want. I want to wake up and want to wake up. I want to see the worse bedhead I’ve seen in my life on the head of the love of my life. Days filled with honey streaming through the windows in a quiet room, perhaps a cat purring softly in a beam of sunlight. Not each day will be glorifying and wholesome as I see it in my head, but if I can get a little morsel of the happiness I envision in my head to become reality, I think I’ll be content.