Let Me Tell You A Story...

Once upon a time there was a girl who saw the world as her oyster. She believed that she could and (more importantly) WOULD do everything she set her mind to do. By the time she was 8, she had made a list of how her life would pan out over the next 2 decades and vowed that she would watch the items on that list be ticked off one by one. Here is that list:

*High school valedictorian
*Harvard
*Graduate Harvard as valedictorian in 3 years
*Harvard Law School
*Graduate valedictorian
*Junior partner in big city law firm by 26
*Senior partner in said law firm by 30

That same girl wrote to Harvard for admissions requirements when she was 8. No harm in getting started early, right? No harm in setting goals, right? Maybe not, but for someone who isn't all that terribly stable between the ears it is. I'm sure all of you have already guessed that the little girl is me. And yes, all of that is true. Now here I am, 26, and nothing on that list has come to be.

I worked my ass off in high school, but thanks to Senora Arietta and her bullshit B+ in Spanish, I didn't make valedictorian. (That's not just sour grapes talking, statistically, my grade in her class should have been an A. If you average 110 and 80...you get 95. Thanks again...ho.)

I followed the Harvard path, but when I applied I was rejected outright. I had an SAT of 1260. Pretty damn good, if I did say so myself, but apparently the dumbest kid at Harvard has a 1350. It was suggested that perhaps I would be happier at an institution such as Brown. No really. They actually suggested I apply to Brown instead. Never mind all my other qualifications - one lousy number (which is a fucking good number, thankyouverymuch) shot down my Harvard dreams. The dreams that I had been working towards for the past 10 years. Thanks guys.

Right then and there, the rest of my list was nullified. Poof. Gone. Without Harvard, the rest of my vision was gone. Instead, I'm 26. No degree. No high paying job. Granted I do have good things in my life. My husband. My son. A handful of really wonderful friends. I mean, REALLY wonderful. But I still feel incomplete as a person. And I know it's that damn list I made nearly 20 years ago that's the problem.

So I say fuck it. It's time to forget about that damn list and move on. I'd say I'll create a new list, but I don't want to put that on myself again. Because if and when it doesn't happen, I don't want to feel like a failure again. But you know what? Not everyone needs goals. It really can be enough just to have an idea of where you want to go.

I have my ideas.