Right Path and Praying for Boston

As October rolls in, the American and National baseball leagues battle it out for a chance at the World Series. I admit, I'm a baseball fanatic. During college, I could never guarantee that I would ever get to see the Series, but I followed the post-season quietly, not wanting to alarm my roommates or my boyfriend. This week, Bear has discovered my obsession: baseball is my religion. The Brewers have fallen while the White Socks and the Cubbies retreat back to Chicago. Last night, the Red Sox retired Anaheim in game four. That's tons of fun, but I just want to see the Sox in the Series. Say amen.

This past weekend, I went down to Portsmouth to drop off the face of the earth for a few days. I visited my friend and after we rode bikes, we watched episodes of Frazier while we ate ice cream, grumbling about our aches and bruises and weary legs. I found I was able to concentrate, to focus on my school work, to even consider the life I'm leading. I have decided to continue with my MFA, but once I'm done, I think I'll take a break from academia for a while. I want to be a professor like my undergraduate teachers; they inspired and encouraged their students and I didn't feel like the breath got knocked out of me every time I went to class.

Have any of you ever realized that you may have set out on the right path, but maybe that you did it at the wrong time or in the wrong suit? That's what this feels like.

Holding the Line.
Bri