Mexico was cancelled. David had to work on Friday so it was just me in my rental car, headed south towards the border...
Training on Thursday was short and sweet—1:00 PM - 5:00 PM. But it was worth the drive. My supervisor is very charismatic, dynamic, and inspirational.
Symbols can be powerful—evoking strong emotions to rise to the surface from some deep, out of view space. I have been subjected to three Confederate flags this last week—all were flying from long wood poles alongside the US flag—both attached to the beds of four wheel drive trucks, validating at least one stereotype perfectly. OK. This is Arizona. I am not in the South. The West should not feel any affiliation or loyalty to the Confederacy. What exactly are these fools embracing and expressing by
I am not superstitious and I certainly think Karma is bunk. But something makes me hesitate shouting at the top of my lungs, "life is good," out of fear that I will jinx myself—that the hubris police will come cracking down and put me back in my miserable place. Maybe I am simply not used to success. It feels different. I feel vulnerable. Could I lose it all in a moment's notice?
I should feel I deserve this chance at greatness. Haven't I suffered enough? I don't want