Climbing into 30

This is how I feel this morning.
A little scruffy, a little overwhelmed. I'm trying to pull myself up that ladder with coffee slurping and list making. I should be happy, overjoyed at all the options set before me, but sometimes I wish I just had a straight, unyielding path. Or several lives to do all the things I want to do, live in all the places I want to live in. One life would have kids and a dog and a fireplace, one would be single and home would be a backpack slung over well traveled shoulders, another would sail nonstop around the world and explore distant atolls and drink kava with my man, yet another would lead the perversely attractive corporate life in New York and drink martinis every night.
I find myself trying to combine all these different aspects of myself and I wonder if it is possible or if it would be more conducive to happiness to pick a path, any path, follow it and don't look back. Or will one path follow another? I tend to look at them all happening concurrently, not taking into account that if all goes well I have a good 50 or 60 years ahead and certainly can fit a few of those in. Or maybe in 40 (or five) years I won't feel the need to.
So now we have to make choices that will affect the coming decade. To house or not to house? To birth or not to birth? Sail, school, West or East, city or island? The choices seem so finite. Then again, when have my plans ever gone as planned?
Coffee cup and sheaves of lists in hand, time to shake off that lingering wet and cold anxiety and climb up that ladder.
Who knows where it leads.