Sometimes I look back on a very successful (thus far) career path, with a slightly more bumpy family history, and the jumbled disaster that makes me a truly mental and emotional wreck, and I wonder how I could have made things different. I'm not saying I necessarily would have or regret the way things are, but I do torture myself with the "if this then that" game on a daily basis.
If I would have done all my homework in elementary school, would the rest of my school years have been easier for me? Would I have done better in my high school subjects, had more discipline and gone to a better college? Would I have finished college? Then I fast forward to where I am, and evaluate whether or not I would have chosen a different career. I don't think I would have, but I did not find this one on purpose. Therefore I suppose I should be thankful I didn't do all my homework in elementary school... a split second in my crazy head!
Then there are those "falling down" moments when I have something burning in my gut and I really want to say it... something piercing but life changing. There are things that remain unsaid that just get brushed under the un-medicated psychosis of a rug in my brain, continuing to feed the fire. I call it a test of emotional will. A more serious game of mind over matter than just fighting off a cold. I know if I would have just said the words, the temporary stress and pain would be overcome by long term relief. Martyr syndrome.
The night trying too hard almost killed me. The evening started as a success. Thousands of dollars were being spent with each paddle's rise, benefitting a charter school on the island. On the microphone a local, well-liked politician energized the group with his beaming smile and rhythmic descriptions of items up for bid. Wine flowed endlessly, poured by the smiling staff hustling around the tent to ensure glasses remained full. Alcohol is a good fund-raising lubricant. The team of servers kept close watch on our table especially. At our table, their boss, my partner, was keeping close watch on the execution of this important evening. The auction ended and as we all dispersed from our seats to congratulate our table-neighbors on their winnings, my partner approached me quickly. His hand firmly grasped my empty arm (as the other was holding a wine glass) and he told me we were leaving. I was confused at first but as he began to describe the flaws in service he noted during the...