By Heather Davis (final/stare/elated)
I paced. I’m not sure why I paced other than for the past hour, I had been doing everything “right” yet it was still too early to know if I had done everything correctly.
This was attempt number 17 and I would not be accepting failure anymore. I ran my hands through my hair, completely resolute in my determination to be successful.
I picked up the list. It had been checked and checked again. Not one thing was excluded. The mix of things had been perfect this time.
I walked to the wall and placed my forehead against the coolness. Then I began to gently tap my head against the wall. Then I tapped my foot in time to my head. It was no use… until I knew for certain that everything turned out the way it should, I’d need to keep moving. I’d need to do something to work off my nervous energy.
Never in my life did I imagine I’d be in this position. Never in my life did I imagine something like this could be so important to me. Never in my life. Never.
The glass-half-empty side indicated that after 16 failed attempts, number 17 wouldn’t be any different. Those were just the odds. And they were not in my favor.
The glass-half-full side reminded me that Heinz had 56 failed attempts at steak sauce before finally hitting the jackpot with the magical number 57.
Still I had to question: Was it even worth it? Were my energies and desires better served elsewhere? Was I making too big of a deal out of the whole situation?
Then my thoughts were disrupted. It was time. The beeping brought me out of my self-doubt. Once again, I had hope.
I put my gloves on. I opened the door and faced the heat. I breathed in deep and smelled satisfaction. I checked the color and saw beauty. Finally, the test: I plunged the knife into the center and it came out clean. I stared at my fabulous creation.
Finally, after 16 failed attempts, I smiled. Elated, I was ready to spend my first Christmas with my new in-laws, and I would be taking along the perfect pumpkin pie!
I paced. I’m not sure why I paced other than for the past hour, I had been doing everything “right” yet it was still too early to know if I had done everything correctly.
This was attempt number 17 and I would not be accepting failure anymore. I ran my hands through my hair, completely resolute in my determination to be successful.
I picked up the list. It had been checked and checked again. Not one thing was excluded. The mix of things had been perfect this time.
I walked to the wall and placed my forehead against the coolness. Then I began to gently tap my head against the wall. Then I tapped my foot in time to my head. It was no use… until I knew for certain that everything turned out the way it should, I’d need to keep moving. I’d need to do something to work off my nervous energy.
Never in my life did I imagine I’d be in this position. Never in my life did I imagine something like this could be so important to me. Never in my life. Never.
The glass-half-empty side indicated that after 16 failed attempts, number 17 wouldn’t be any different. Those were just the odds. And they were not in my favor.
The glass-half-full side reminded me that Heinz had 56 failed attempts at steak sauce before finally hitting the jackpot with the magical number 57.
Still I had to question: Was it even worth it? Were my energies and desires better served elsewhere? Was I making too big of a deal out of the whole situation?
Then my thoughts were disrupted. It was time. The beeping brought me out of my self-doubt. Once again, I had hope.
I put my gloves on. I opened the door and faced the heat. I breathed in deep and smelled satisfaction. I checked the color and saw beauty. Finally, the test: I plunged the knife into the center and it came out clean. I stared at my fabulous creation.
Finally, after 16 failed attempts, I smiled. Elated, I was ready to spend my first Christmas with my new in-laws, and I would be taking along the perfect pumpkin pie!