Summer Loving Had Me a Blast
I can be a very goal-oriented person, which means I can be quite productive, but I am also tormented by setting goals and not achieving them. Sometimes I follow-through on goals when perhaps I shouldn’t. Like the time a couple of friends and I decided to get our scuba diving license. The week before I was to take my final dive, our instructors took a group to the same spot I would go the following week. One of the students tragically drowned. I tend to have a “World According to Garp” mentality about these things and decided that the chances of the school losing two students in two weeks to drowning was statistically unlikely to happen. In fact, it was probably the safest time I could go. I’ve since come to learn that statistics don’t work this way, but I would have no idea about such things as I was a Letters major in college. I did stick to my instructor like velcro when we were under water, and I have my PADI license. I have done precisely nothing with it, but I still like coming across it in my wallet.
So what? So I didn’t cure cancer this summer. I didn’t get it, either! HA! If only success were measured by how many loads of laundry you do. That would make me a very successful person. I did catch up with several old friends. I still like my husband. I had fun with my children. Really. In between those times I wanted to run away from home and screeched at my offspring to quit throwing their trash at my head while I was driving, I totally enjoyed most of my time with them. Can we really ask to enjoy more than most of it? I remember when one of my children used to ask me if I enjoyed being a lawyer. I would usually respond, “Most days.” Yeah, that’ll work.