I can’t escape the insanity of social media. Now, it is seeped into my haven – my recovery rooms – and has invaded my awards shows. Every place I enter has become a platform for expressing their unhappiness with our current state of affairs. I currently feel like the husband with selective hearing. The nagging voice that keeps repeating the same thing over and over again expecting the husband to respond when in fact, they really aren’t listening. I have become that. It isn’t though I don’t care, but rather I have a full life that includes my career, my friends, my fur babies, and my family…..not necessarily in that order.
So, let’s turn our attention to my youngest son’s college adventure. We are on the cusp of diving into visiting schools. Because he wants to continue working as a student trainer on a college level, he has to follow the rules, just like any student athlete which involves registering with the NCAA Eligibility Center. That might sound exciting, but I assure you it is not.
I spent 40 minutes on their website where it asked me where he went to school from the time he was twelve until the present. It was like registering with what I imagine trying to be an FBI agent would be……secret codes, passwords, etc….then I had to add their code to the ACT list of where his test scores need to be sent. All my time apparently was worth the $170 that I got to pay to get his secret codes. All of this for him to be able to talk to the coaches and staff when he is looking at prospective schools. Sigh……
This college crap is a lot of work on everyone’s part. I feel sorry for our mailman. Currently, he is delivering at least five to six envelopes a day from various colleges that say the same thing…..”Bryce, we have been watching you……”. This all sounds incredibly creepy and stalker-like. I feel like an agent of sorts, as I weed out the crap mail for the legitimate contenders.
I know, I know…..it will just get worse. As Bryce registers for his senior year of high school, I long for the simple things. When making a decision didn’t involve paying an organization so your child can talk to someone about their program. When the hardest choice was vanilla or chocolate ice cream. Don’t get me wrong, this time of his life is exciting. It takes the focus off of all the fun suckers who can’t move on with their lives because they are “overwhelmed by the state of our country”. I am not missing one moment with my kid because I am not happy with something that is out of my control. No picket sign or outraged Facebook post is going to change anything.
Today, I choose being in the present moment. Living my life, making a difference in my corner of the world, but most of all trying to stay in my lane. Stepping out of the drama diffuses the problem and today, I am all about the escape.
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