Over the years, the one rule has been to avoid opening a sentence with the first-person singular. I haven't always been successful, but I want this to be both a diary and an exercise in humility. No discussion of work, even more critical now that the stakes are higher, and my role inherently means I am the antagonist in god knows how many revenge fantasies. People are more and more curious about my professional ambitions. Erstwhile demurral has given way to tepid embrace, with expected consequences of a marked uptick in LinkedIn invitations. I think I would have liked this game had I started earlier.
Three weeks now I have run precisely one day per week, out in my old neighborhood, along the trails around the lake where we lived when we moved from out among the high plains. The last two weeks I have come home flush with chanterelles, and this week found the first matsutakes of the year, and some shaggy parasols and porcinis for good measure. We cooked them to coincide with the return of my wife's sister and husband from Hawaii. We ate them while watching video of snorkeling with sea turtles. I have 50,000 miles logged and a companion ticket, but no one wants to go with me. It is the only state I haven't visited. I never thought it would be such a hard sell.
In two months, I will have attained the perfect age. I still have my hair and no reason to be sad. My retirement savings passed a critical point. Next week I begin my adventures in stock trading. Although it is fictitious, I experienced the equivalent of my professional pen ceremony last week, in front of my peers from across the state. I feel like this is somehow a great defeat.
There seems to have been a light dusting of snow on the mountains where we snowboard, and my daughter and I have been fitted with new gear and are itching for a cold change of scenery. We are both new and lousy, and yet eager for all the upcoming exercise in humility.
Go to Hawaii.
I'm still trying to reach Idaho and North Dakota and Utah, and it seems like such a great and impossible distance. No one wants to go with me, either. But Idaho is no Hawaii, and I don't have a companion ticket.
Happy almost perfect to you.
North Dakota is an impossible distance. A friend and I decided one summer to drive to Saskatchewan from Missouri for a Shakespeare festival and NoDak was unavoidable. All you have to do is plan a trip to Saskatoon and it will happen. Hawaii is happening in 2015 no matter what.
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