The Next Step is Approaching

As I return to a once familiar setting of typing up new cognitive discoveries and experiences, I have come across ironic news. I am slowly growing tired of the school setting. To be most specific, I am growing tired of the community college setting. Community college is not mean to last longer than three years time. If one commits to the curriculum and all classes are readily available in the intersessions, one would be leaving in no longer than two years. Given my living and working situation I have stayed an extended amount of time in this setting and now have a very developed mindset for this type of facilitation.

In the long-run of things, I am making a very smart decision by not burying myself in debt by going through the community college route by which the citizens of the country (including myself) contribute financially to the education of those less economically fortunate. Having spent so much time in this type of setting and attending multiple campuses, I have seen a lot of different personality types and more similar types that I care to admit. That is what the bulk of this post is about; the stereotypical generalization I have discovered on the college setting.

I have met many people in the school setting and one of the first questions I follow up with after I ask what someones major is, is what type of job do they hope to get with said major. However there are a few more broad majors like psychology and liberal arts, or history that leave me a little puzzled and curious. Once people describe to me the specific type of field they wish to join, I can make my own judgement decisions from there. It’s the one’s who don’t really know what they want to do with their lives that make me nervous. Just the same as those who know what they want to do, but should be picking a new job field entirely. There was one point in time where I questioned why students were given prerequisites and not just given specific job training. Having seen the many willing but unable bodies, I now know why these classes exist. Sure you may want to become a nurse, but if you can’t grasp concepts like chemistry, anatomy, or physiology, what good are you when the time comes to think on your feet and use the background knowledge you’ve learned to apply to giving medications that meet specific criteria. I am convinced that prerequisites are there to weed out those who simply want to do something, and those who will do that someone they strive for.

I am growing tired of those who are still taking college level algebra for the second or third time that wish to become accountants. One of my greater fears is entering a bike race feeling one-hundred percent and not having what it takes to even stay with the pack because at that exact moment I know I will no longer be able to continue with my goals in racing. When it comes to the academic setting, people don’t grasp this concept. There are a lot of people who waste government money taking classes over and over on a major they may or may not be best suited for them. I try and not think about this too much because then the cynic takes hold and my mood becomes ruined.

Just today in class a student mentioned how she witnessed a fatal traffic collision and asked why the firefighters began placing these wires with pads on the end of them and how it related to our subject at hand. The question was within relative means of our topic of nerves and there functions for our anatomy class. Since the class in titled, “Introduction to anatomy,” not all physiological questions can be answered. The question isn’t what got me wound up, it was the student that attempted to answer the question that almost made me leave the room. A fellow EMT attempted to answer this student’s question by applying what he has learned from work experience to relate to class matters. This would have been fine if he had just stuck with answering the question she asked. Instead he goes on and on about policies and medical guidelines that were totally irrelevant to the simple question she asked. I’ve seen students do this time and time again and it’s attempts like this that bring out the cynic in me. He clearly was unable to fully acknowledge the question and provide a concise answer. Anyone who has taken English 101 knows how important it is to stay on topic whether it be a written or a verbal discussion. This question could have easily been answered in no more than two sentences instead of six to eight.

I am so glad that I have only one more semester of this setting, then it is off to the career training I have taken all of these classes, and shown that I have what it takes for the education and overall job. Community college can be an excited but depressing setting. The other day I looked up that my school has an 18% graduation rate. I laughed when I saw this, and having taken many classes here I know it is not the campus but the people that made this possible.

If I could provide any advice for future college attendees it would be to value the class time you do end up having. Classes do get canceled every once in a while which is perfectly normal. It’s the wishing for a class to be cancelled that should come as a red flag to you and those around you. You may or may not be paying for classes with money out of your own pocket. There are hundreds of thousands of dollars invested in your success. You’ve paid to have that class time from start to finish. Wishing professors would end class early is simply a waste of money on your behalf. Try not to surround yourself with people with this personality types. They will drag you down and you will suffer as a result. Helping people is fine and keeps you on your toes. It is excessive amounts of assistance for people who clearly do not understand the subject matter that do not deserve your time and energy. Lastly, take every opportunity you can to leave the community college setting as soon as possible. Statistics show that people who start community college will end up dropping out. It takes constant drive to finish something as strenuous as that. You do not have all the time in the world and not nearly as many opportunities. When the going gets tough for me, I think of where I have come from and where I hope to avoid to keep me going through the more bland material. 

As usual, I am greeted with great relief getting most of my thoughts out on to a medium I approve of. I’ve been having a lot of dreams and inner struggles lately that I haven’t appointed time to vent out through typed word. I hope that this leads to a healthier trend of therapeutic writing and storytelling. As always, I look forward to hearing thoughts and concerns from everyone who chooses to read my thoughts. I hope to hear from you all soon.

-DFJ

A Moment of Silence

Last week a had the chance to be a part of a work-related standby event. Seeing as a long time has passed since I got to work such an event, I jumped on the opportunity in a hurry. Working standby events is one of the many perks that come with work life. For the most part, it is you and your partner standing/ sitting around making sure no one gets her. Not necessarily babysitting, just supervising for safety purposes.

As you arrive to the event, you begin to think about the equipment you may need to use and should have ready at all times. I felt confident with myself and my partner at the time (which I normally don’t feel so trustworthy with other newer coworkers.)

As we arrived, we were informed that the event we were standing by for was a stationary bicycle fundraising exercise event. I became flooded with preconceptions once we arrived to where the event was taking place at the equinox gym in Westwood. I thought to myself, “Oh joy, a bunch of upper-class white people wearing the highest quality clothing, riding in place, listening to top 40 hits, on a beautiful Saturday.” The good news is that the event began at 6am which meant we would be getting off at a reasonable hour. But until then, the hour was upon us and the enduring began.

Usually ambulance standby events are held outdoors, and gives us an opportunity to catch up on whatever social life or obligation we have outside of work; or to simply sleep if we had a late night. Since this was indoors, we were forced to stay on the third floor of a noisy gym and watch people get hot and sweaty. To the gym’s credit, it resembled that of a hotel spa. My partner and I realized right away that this would be the only setting that we would have the chance to enter such an establishment. The amenities were very sophisticated. From a washer and dryer you could run right before you hoped in the shower, to a shoe-shining machine to polish your shoes after you’ve shaved, and pampered yourself with lush couches and a big screen TV.

Getting back to the event, I managed to get this shot which pretty much sums up our experience.

Rich white people riding bikes indoors

Many people might see this as a utopia for cute girls and guys but it turned out to be just the opposite for me. Yeah there was a lot of skin being shown and there were a lot of attractive people who were in good shape and I can presume had great personalities, but I didn’t want to have anything to do with them on a social level (unless it came to work-related issues.) If I had been the same flirtatious person I was six months ago, I would have loved hanging out there; but I am not. For about ten hours there was were loud pop music being played that resembled a nightclub (only it was the middle of the day.) I wish I could have taken a picture of my partner and I sitting in the corner, looking at our textbooks we brought to study by ourselves. It totally felt like a high school dance, but we were content and wouldn’t have done anything differently except taking turns napping in our rig.

There were no serious injuries for the entire event. A few cramps from the inexperienced athletes, and a few boo boos from making bike adjustments. This event was more of an experience that made me realize that my attraction for the things I cannot have is almost gone altogether. The significant lover has been gone for a week now and I continue to stay inside my hermit shell counting the days until her return. Even though she is gone, I still find myself staying at home, not interacting with others I normally do, and conversing with coworkers and classmates about work/school related topics. I agree that part of the problem comes from within in my rejection to interact. It is a selfish emotion that tells me that since I have a content circle, what do I need to interact with others for? This girl standing here is very pretty and although I am attracted to her physically, I have no intention whatsoever to talk and start the get-to-know-you conversation; I’m too lazy.

To recap, I got to go to standby to watch upper-class folks of Westwood spend the entire day indoors looking outside at what a beautiful day had gone by and pedal in place. My eyes and actions no longer wonder adrift into promiscuous habits and although it may leave me feeling lonely, I am content with that. It is experiences like these that I still enjoy what I do for work and do not consider myself burned-out just yet. There is still a lot to learn, and the fruit that is work life still has some life left and keeps me coming back.

A Moment of Silence

 

-DFJ

DFJ Goes to Vegas

With the time I have left in between classes, I will share my experiences I had over the weekend with the world.

This passed weekend was either a late Valentine’s day, or an early presidents day for some of us to celebrate. I picked the more romantic of the two and ventured off to a place everyone under the legal drinking age wishes to go; Las Vegas. If I could sum Vegas up in seven words of less, I would call it, “Pinocchio’s Pleasure Island.” You know, that place Pinocchio goes where all the children have no boundaries, smoke cigars, drink booze, and eat all the candy in the world.

If you are unfamiliar with the view, this is Pleasure Island

A place where all the boys went and did big-boy things; that is Vegas in a nutshell.

We ended up arriving sometime around noon on Friday to check-in at the beautiful Cesar’s Palace.

Hotel view

I wish I would have taken more photos of the inside of our hotel. Instead, this will suffice.

Flying

A lot of firsts happened this weekend: First trip to Vegas as legal adults, first trip out of state (although Nevada is entirely too close to call traveling,) and first stay in a nice hotel. Both the world traveler and I were amazed at the size of our room and all the amenities that were included. For her to mention what a nice hotel this was is saying something. She has been all around the world and has been in and out of her fair share of hotels.  Not much was said during our time here indoors. A lot of thoughts were conceived; thoughts wondering if this is what being a grown-up is like. Is this how happy and successful couples live? This is the closest I have ever felt to the phrase,

“Living the dream.”

There was more than enough space for both of us, we had a huge bathroom with a Jacuzzi bath, shower, and enough sink space for two women’s makeup kits and clothes. We were both very sad when we had to leave. This is arguably one of our favorite moments of the entire stay.

When it came time to finally get out and roam the streets, neither of us knew what to expect except from what we heard from our parents and friends. Vegas is kind of like a theme park. Hundreds of people coming from all over the world to see sights, and enjoy themselves. To add to that, there is alcohol and different altering substances everywhere. If gluttony had an address, it would be on the Vegas strip. People during all hours of the day had drinks in their hands. Not a single person was advising the other to behave themselves, or threaten to cut them off of the drinks they had. Perhaps we saw the more tame version of Pleasure Island, the kind where people don’t become belligerent and make everyone else uncomfortable (we certainly weren’t looking for that experience during our stay.)

Aside from every corner store and restaurant selling alcohol, nearly every place to eat had beef on the menu. Pleasure Island must not very pleasurable for the bovines. Which made me wonder where they get all there beef from. Every type of cut imaginable was either at one place or another. At least very little was wasted in this city within a desert. I can imagine a cow being placed in the middle of the road and having the people there tearing it apart and maybe leaving some bones behind, but not many since someone is always finding ways to spruce up his or her menu with “bone marrow this” or another exotic way to present a less desirable part of the cow.

Despite hotels being walking distance from each other within a five mile radius, the owners of hotels don’t really cater to “hotel-hopping” although that is what everyone ends up doing. With all the hotel resorts and casinos we visited, I cannot remember how many times I saw Prada, Coach, D&G and all the other high-end fashion icons of the world in each one. Hotels have to present all of these things to get you to stay and spend money in their own location.

There was a lot of repetition, and by the end of the night, I was over it. People of all shapes, sizes and classes come to Vegas for the experience and atmosphere of being able to do or buy nearly whatever they want and whatever time of the day. This disorients someone such as myself; you never know when it’s time to put the drink down, or to pick up another once you’re finished.

I saw a real ugly side of Pleasure Island I wasn’t ready to see. The naive person I was imagined a utopia of people where everyone was happy, and no one showed signs that they were struggling inside or outside. No one really tells you about the panhandlers of Vegas, frankly because they like the rest of us try our best to make the public struggle of others’ mishaps as transparent as possible. Wherever there is happiness and prosperity, there will always be those who try to go about prospering in a less desirable way along with it. I was reminded of feeding the transient on Thanksgiving as I saw an older black lady with missing teeth cringe after taking another drink of her potent liquor she begged others for money so she could buy. A little piece of me felt unclean inside. It made me question whether I really belonged here, or if I should be trying to better those around me. I decided to put those thoughts on the back-burner and make the best out of the time I had on Pleasure Island.

Negative thoughts aside, it was very easy to get caught up in enjoying one’s self on Pleasure Island. There were still decoration inside of all the hotels celebrating the Chinese New Year.

To make a long story short, we got to see the inside of many hotels, posed for a few photos, and ate well, but by no means pigged out.

On top of the Eiffel Tower

In front of the Eiffel Tower

“Hey, don’t do that!”

Big and Shiny

Once the night was said and done, many drinks were consumed, a lot of walking was involved, and we all slept happily ever after.

Waking up in a large hotel after a night of partying was really the icing on the cake. With a leftover beer in hand, and no real plans for the day, we tried to soak in the pleasure of a life that may soon become tangible.

When it came time to leave, we said goodbye to our hotel room, bye to the gigantic bathroom, and checked out over the television. From there, we continued to sight-see, got to see the shark reef at the aquarium in the Mandalay Bay, and proceeded to head home afterwards.

Vegas, you leave me very confused inside. Next to the chain-smokers smelling up the casinos and transients in faded Halloween costumes asking for money to pose with them, we left on good terms. When considering what an Island within a desert you are, I can see why so many people come back and re-live lives of zero boundaries and genuine freedom to pollute one’s body and mind. You have very nice hotels, overpriced food, and we have never slept so well in our lives.Sincerely,

DFJ

 

 

Daddy for a Day

So last weekend (Saturday) I got the privilege to my two younger sisters to Disneyland for their first ever visit. Not only did they go, but my mother and lady went too. This came to us as a holiday gift from the Mrs. and was most appreciated by everyone. That day I learned a lot of things. Even before the day arrived, I began asking if the girls had been behaving themselves as to not reward them for bad behavior. I made that mistake around Christmas time with my other siblings on my dad’s side. Gifts are not given just because it is a certain day of the year. They are gifts because they are rewards for above-average behavior. Once this immediate concern came to me, I began to feel more and more like a parent than a brother. In hindsight this comes from wanting the best for someone else so much that you take extra steps to ensure that everything goes the way you want it to go. I can now say that these plans for perfection are completely unrealistic and take a long time to accept the real unpredictable outcomes that are attached to growing up.

Once the big day came, I expected the girls to be on their best behavior (which I understand is very subjective.) Best behavior to me is to pretty much carry themselves the way I do. As vain as this may sound I expected these children to be able to do as they are told with little repetition of commands, keep to themselves and us, and be able to stay in one place for an extended amount of time. I could go on but they weren’t able to do any of the above tasks let alone the other things I wanted; Shame on me for being naive. I like to think of that Saturday as controlled chaos in a theme park.

One of the things that surprised me from the beginning was the girls’ ability to be deterred from whatever it is they were doing or wanted to do. For example, after finishing a ride they immediately wanted to ride it again, to which my mom responded with, “No, were going to …. instead.” To which the girls agreed without hesitation. By the end of the night the girls wanted to do and ride so many things that they became less and less agreeable the sleepier they got.

In my attempts to control the chaos that is childhood, my patients began wearing thin, and I became flustered and needed a break from giving out orders and instructions. I would go back and fourth between talking to the girls, and talking to my mother about what I was feeling from a parent’s perspective. We would discuss things we wanted to do (both negative and positive,) things we should do, and ask the other’s opinion on what they would do in that situation. In the midst of our discussions, I realized the things that began to bother me seemed to have no affect on Sarah when it came to the children’s behavior. This complementary form of tolerance helped unwind the kinks I had in my head. Parenting is possible without completely melting down and falling apart in the process.

Having only taken care of two kids for an entire day (from about 7am to 9pm) I have an added respect for parents around the world. Not everyone is best suited to be a parent, and not all parents deserve praise for simply inheriting a title, but the ones who are trying to go about things the right way have a tough job.

Kids remind me of how we are supposed to handle seizure patients:

• Just let them do their thing
• Keep them away from sharp corners or things they can harm themselves with
• Watch the airway and breathing
• Hope that when all is said and done, no serious permanent damage is done

If only there was medication that could be given to help childhood run smoother like seizure medication.

Alas, such control over something like childhood would create a synthetic environment and keep genuine learning experiences from living a thing for the later years when they might become more difficult to deal with. Not only is it a learning experience for the child, but the parent also. Dealing with the rough times can come as a challenge for both parties. It is these same experiences that help up grow as individuals from both sides of the spectrum. It is how we deal with the not-so desirable times is what makes us who we are for the rest of our lives. I promise my unborn child(ren) that I will do my best to try to go with the flow, not take too much control over actions and free will, in exchange for mutual understanding, trust, and genuine effort to head in the right direction, or even help show me what the right direction is if they deem it appropriate. My parenting notes I take observing my sibling will continue to grow in hopes to finally have a comfortable grasp on the way things work, and what works best for me.

Ciao

Race Weekend

I am back from my eventful weekend racing bikes. Before I dive in to details, in retrospect, I am glad I’ve begun this trend of riding bikes competitively day after day. It builds one’s strength and keeps a rider well rounded in both road racing, and criterium racing.

Going into this weekend, I knew I was in good shape for the race to come. I had taken all the right steps in training ( a never-ending affair) and wanted to see how I stacked up against everyone else. Seeing as this was the first road race of the season, I heard a lot of talk from people saying that they were going to use this event as training for races in the future. The first race began in Santa Maria. I had the pleasure of staying at a future teammate’s house nearby. The journey involved taking the 154 freeway through Angeles Crest. The sights I saw traveling up and down the roads were awe-inspiring. It was on that road that I began to understand the joys James Dean felt from driving along the highways and canyon roads. Thankfully, my story does not end the same as his story ended. I made it to the house to pick up a team jersey and was greeted with the utmost hospitality.

When it came time to race, I decided I was going to warm-up mid ride given the distance we were required to travel. My stats looked something like this. The course was not too demanding and the most difficult part of the race was the flat section after the first big turn. There were guys up there putting a serious effort once things got flat. I managed to hang on and saw some stragglers before the rollers came. Once altitude was introduced, the playing field began to level out. Looking at how much climbing  we did, I’m surprised we didn’t hit it at a hotter pace. Needless to say, I began the race at the back of the pack and ended toward the top 10 finishers. In passing our field of 100, I began to realize the most encouraging feeling I have ever felt,

“Victory is tangible”

To see others huffing and puffing up the roads was motivation for me to keep on bridging gaps, and hanging on to others when the accelerations came. After the final lap things began to pick up in speed. I still was able to hang on and was a little upset about my positioning since I was behind someone who was having a more difficult time than I. I made it to the top ten and when the sprint finish approached, things began to get hairy. The course was on a one way road, and other riders had been pulled from the race for jumping the double yellow line. When it came time to sprint, people were jumping this same line without penalty. As upsetting as this was, there was nothing I could do. The worst part is that someone started to nudge out and ended up moving me towards this same spot where I ended up hitting the first set of orange cones and crashed out of the race.

Long story short, I am fine and do not wish to take photos of the damage that was done. I have a lot of road rash, and I think my right foot is sprained from the crash. Nothing looks infected and I have been taking proper care of said injuries.

I ended up going right back to the house to began to shower, eat, and recover. I was concerned for my foot because it had swelled up on the outer area and I thought it may be broken. After icing and medicating, the swelling went down and I was only able to put little amounts of weight on it. The house I stayed at really tended to my wounds and well being. There were other riders from this team at the house and I got a sincere vibe that they were genuinely interested in my well being. This is a big reason why I intend to join their team. Food was eaten, drinks were drank, and sleeping was challenging at the end of the night. Before I went to bed, I was discussing my options as to what to do tomorrow. I could either:

• Go to the hospital (which really wasn’t an option I was willing to go forth with.)
• Stay off the foot and not race the next day
• Or stay off the foot, and either race or go for a spin on my own

I chose to race on Sunday for two reasons. One, because physically, I felt like I needed to fully assess my foot to see if there was severe damage done and to recover from my wreck. Two, to mentally keep the fear of racing with others in tight-knit quarters from consuming me.

Sunday morning came and I was able to put a bit more weight on the foot and Looked forward to being able to get back on the bike. No significant damage was done to the bike (mostly cosmetic) which made all systems go. The silliest thing I found out was that, as long as I didn’t get out of saddle, I felt just fine. After a saddle clenching road race the day before, and my unfortunate result, I knew I clearly had no real option of winning, and I was content with that. The race went underway and despite feeling nervous the entire time, I eventually became a little more comfortable than before. More race stats are right here. I got to see a lot of friends, and managed to keep both wheels down for this one. I finished my race and accomplished all I wanted to that day. I gave my muscles a good stretch, and am not so nervous when it comes to riding close with others. There were no crashes in our race which gave me a little more confidence for next time.

Once all was said and done, the thoughts reflecting on what a great weekend began to flood in. From driving on beautiful roads with great scenic views

Santa Barbara

to racing with great teammates.I am so glad that I was able to appreciate the little things that were involved with my eventful events.

When speaking in the present, my neck is incredibly stiff, my body is pretty sore, it hurts to sneeze, and I hope I can sleep off most of this pain to be able to make it into work tomorrow (and to race again soon.) So cal looks very gloomy. It’s a good day to stay in and rest. I can’t wait to put myself in another eventful weekend this year (without crashing.) Until then, it’s time to recover.

-DFJ

 

Race weekend

Tightrope Troubles

Part of maturing into adulthood is recognizing the past, present, and future “you’s.” Discovering where you came from, where you are now, and where your path in life is leading. Having lived in southern California all of my life, I have learned so much about myself, and my surroundings along with their history. I have gotten to know a lot of good and bad people in the process. At my age, the steps into establishing a educational foundation and stepping into a career shortly after school have been a very big priority for my peers and I. Right now, I am finishing up my time in community college and plan on transferring to a private university by next year. I am familiar with the workflow that the spring and fall semesters bring, and have gotten pretty comfortable with my current job. Sarah and I are making more effort on spending time together and we seem to be getting the hang of it too.

One could conclude that I am developing a good foundation on life with this series of repetitive events. I am now beginning to understand that life in this world requires a lot of repetition. One of the most common settings one can witness this is at work. I try and keep things fresh but end up falling victim to the very American “work to live” lifestyle. The time in between semesters seems like time partially wasted. I cannot shake the thought that I should be doing better things with my time than my normal routine. Perhaps it’s because my peers are wrapping up the educational step in their lives, and moving on to the career hunt. I enjoy staying busy with productive errands that help me get to this step at an accelerated pace. I long for the time in which I have only work, and my social life to worry about. This point in my life will remove a large mental weight from me. Until then, the idle times can never be appreciated with full force.

Going back to the topic of ritualistic habits, I find myself asking when that point in time comes when I need to only worry about work and my social life, will I remain esteemed in all of the time I will work? It’s thoughts like these that make me consider choosing professions we are not overly passionate about. For example, I love sharing my thoughts on blogs and social networks. I find it very rewarding and satisfying to expose your thoughts and opinions with those near and far to you. That being said, if I had to do this as a profession, I fear that performing the same tasks no matter how demanding it may be eventually sucks the fun out of it.

I once knew a guy who was on the basketball team in high school, but really had a desire for golf. I managed to play a few rounds of golf with him and saw how talented he was. I can remember asking him why he didn’t join the golf team instead of basketball. He told me that he didn’t want to do it because he enjoys golf so much that having to do for competition, or to even turn it into a career goal would make him not like playing as much. That really stuck with me, and I am turning more and more into a believer when it comes to doing things we enjoy.

Maybe we need to reserve our genuine passions for recreational purposes, and leave the secondary pleasures as the tasks we can see ourselves doing for extended amounts of time. When I was growing up, I never found anything that I felt I needed to do for the rest of my life. Some people have to be police officers, accountants, scientists, or directors. I am not one of these people. When I was figuring out what it was I wanted to do for work, I thought mainly of something I am willing and able to do that will not drive me mad with boredom. This (among a lot of other reasons) lead me toward the medical field. It is a noble job, not too physically demanding, that rewards their employees to live comfortable lifestyles. I am by no means head-over-heels for my future job, but more head-over-heels for the principal of having a career as a result from the years I have invested in school.

I still ask myself will I ever get bored even when I finally get a big-boy job. Friends have assured me that there will always be opportunities to keep things fresh and interesting, especially in a field like medicine. I hope for my own sanity that they are right. I see a lot of medical professionals who have become jaded and are not only unsatisfied with what it is they do, but have begun to decrease in performance after the years and are affecting patient care. It’s people like these that scare me into considering that I may end up like them. As of now, they are motivating me to not become that type of person. I want to do everything in my power to not end up the jaded employee. Not only in a work setting but in a social setting as well.

The thought of getting married and starting a family genuinely excites me. It is in this step that I am able to reflect in where I have come from, and what I have created as a result. However, I fear that I may or may not become that jaded husband who’s apathy grows day after day. I would be living a nightmare if I became jaded both inside and outside of work. Having realized the repetitions that come with getting our figurative feet off the ground, I begin to see certain circumstances that people along the jaded path. Being able to spot the potential problem areas is have the job of avoiding them altogether. It is how we handle the day-in day-out habits that come with existence that make us who we are. It is very easy to get wrapped up in these behaviors; I see it all the time at work. I just hope that spotting these potential problem areas will inspire and motivate me to avoid them, or at the very least, make the best out of the situation.

I have had both excited and nervous feelings stirring about for a long time now. All that’s left to be done is to expose myself to these scenarios and see how I handle it.