Another gorgeous autumn Friday, and all I can think to say is, "Where has Friday been?" This week just would not end for me. One would think, at the glorious age of 40, I would have learned by now that work weeks grow longer by the minute the more you look forward to the weekend. Of course, one would think I would have learned a great deal about everything by now, but I haven't. Not really. I think my absorbtion of the way things work stopped on the 3rd grade playground. All I need to know to get me through life I learned then. Anything after that, just fodder for my blog.
For instance, I learned on the playground when playing Red Rover (you remember that horrid little game don't you?) that the scrawny small kids are the target for busting through the human chain, and at that time, I was the scrawny small kid. Much to the chagrin of my playmates however, I also decided it was rather moronic to let a colossal kid try to bust through my hands, knocking them completely out of my little gloves, so I let go! Hell yes, I let go. Let the humongous kids bust through, I don't care. Was I going to get a trophy or anything for holding off the big kids, allowing my tiny hand to be smashed and bruised? No. Not even a, "Thanks girl, way to play!" Really? Nothing? My poor cold, skinny little hand could have been shattered into a thousand pieces and you yell at me because I broke the chain?
I know, I was a bad teammate when it came to Red Rover. I don't want emails pouring in screaming that I didn't (or still don't, which is entirely possible) understand the concept of being a team player and all that jazz. I think I did. I also understood physical pain and the importance of avoiding it whenever possible. To my former 3rd-grade playmates who lived for winning Red Rover every day on the playground, I do offer you my sincerest apology. Hopefully you all have internet access during recreation hours in the prison system so you can read my apology on-line. I was a bad team player, only thinking of myself and my future as a writer with mangled hands.
The same is still true in adulthood, only it isn't necessarily the size of the kids who break through the chain, or the size of those that keep the chain intact: it's their determination. My determination to win at Red Rover wasn't as fierce as others' determination. I was more determined to succeed in other ways, determined to get what I wanted from life using brains, not brawn. The trouble is (yes, still), I'm not always sure of what I want...but, as it is Friday, I'm going to make peace with that for approximately 48 hours and not care.
--Fortuitous Observer
