"3 years, 2 months, 1 week, 4 days...

I'm always counting down cause there ain't no easier way."

I just got 5 money adjustments from a T8 intern and feel great. I guess him getting the short end of the stick with a high lottery number and having to stay at school for his intern hours vs. going to any clinic the the Twin Cities was at least beneficial for me. I asked him if he was jaded about the situation and he told me that of course it was less than ideal, but each day is what you make it.

That's important to keep in mind. The Specials perhaps said it best when they wrote the lyrics, "Don't let the bastards grind you down!" Each day has the opportunity to be amazing, especially when one lives in an affluent country such as the good old U.S. of A. Then again, some of the happiest people I've seen are those who have next to nothing in Western terms.

However, that lack of material goods sometimes equates to a decreased amount of worrying. Worrying about how to pay for stuff, how to keep it nice and neat and out of the hands of thieves and miscreants. Oi vey, indeed.

Here's something kind of fun I've had in my head for a long time and since I don't have class for 35 minutes, I feel as though I can get close to writing it all down here and now.

"A sea in which I am constantly drowning..."

As the disc slid into the CD player, he started the engine of his '94 Saab. The two friends buckled their seat belts almost in time to the opening melody coursing through the speakers and as Rick slid out of his parent's driveway, he removed his heart from his throat and placed is squarely on his sleeve as he had done so many times before. Shifting into drive, the lyrics rang out: "She says I'm much too thin, she asks me if I'm sick. 'What's a girl to do with friends like this?'"

This was not a new routine for Rick and his best friend, Wiles (usually referred to as Wiley). For as many Friday afternoons as either cared to remember, they hopped into the car and spoke of teenage love, music, and what to do with their lives after high school. As the latter was nearing its end, both were anxious to start their new lives at the respective universities each had chosen. An era was drawing to a close, though that was hardly going to get in the way of the serious topic they both wanted to discuss in full detail.

"First of all, what did she say exactly?" Wiley prodded, anxious to get to the bottom of their schools topic of the day. Shifting in a slightly agitated manner, Rick responded with a confident veneer that did not do a great job of hiding his insecurity from such a close friend.

"She said, and I quote, 'Umm...... no, no thanks.'" Continuing, he added, "I got a really good feeling about it, though, a great one even. Margot hesitated, and that hesitation symbolized a slightly ajar door into which I plan to shove part of my figurative body to keep it open. I've got a shot and..."

"Yeah, a shot in hell! Dude, why would you even think that a flat rejection carries any promise with it?" chimed in Wiley, partially in an attempt to prevent Rick from carrying on and on about a 3.5 word answer. "Umm," as most people know, is chalked up as only half a word in situations such as this. "And let me ask you something else. I heard you winked at her. You winked, man! Is this the 1980's all of a sudden? Are you going to start wearing jean jackets and dressing like an Eastern European? I think my mom has some leggings in the crawl space if you're that serious about making the transition to 20 year ago. Seriously."

Rick looked as though he had an answer already prepared as he listened to Wiley's verbal punches to his pride. "Alright, it appears that some of the less savory people at our school..."

"You mean all of them?"

"Well, possibly. I am not sure who rides the rumor Ferris Wheel at our fine institution but if anyone says I winked, they are a lair. Except Margot because she is too cute to lie... and if she hears I called her a liar, that partially ajar door will serve as a vertical guillotine to my heart I'm afraid..." Rick trailed off and looked quite perfectly despondent while Wiles rolled his eyes and cleared his throat, more as a point of emphasis that out of necessity.

"Rumor Ferris Wheel? I think you mean rumor mill, and it is not usually something people ride even in a delusional mind such as yours. And yes, I know you got a 33 on your ACT but you're still clueless about the 'Rules of the Game,' so don't argue. Another thing-- stop with the obscure and forced analogies, they are not helping you out around the 'water cooler' at school. See? I can throw them out there, as well."

Both paused as a particularly bad ass song broke out on the mixed CD ("I Want You To Want Me" by Cheap Trick) that they had been listening to all spring. On an interesting aside, a copy of that very album had been left on the doorstep of Margot's home. Rick was certain she listened to it all the time and that she was not at all embarrassed about the inscription on the disc that read "Your eyes are a sea," and that continued below the center hole common on all CD's "In which I am constantly drowning." The strength of his certainty was perhaps only matched by the force she used upon finding it to frisbee it into her neighbors yard. A riding lawn mower served to help return it from the earth from which it came.

"Poor, poor hopeless Wiley... I really do pity you. You don't have an optimistic bone in your body and that, my friend, is your downfall. You see, I make lemonade out of lemons while you make... really sour, bitter and crappy lemonade out of lemons that come up in your life. The whole Margot situation is less than ideal right now, but I am staying positive. She has my card now so I should be getting a text, e-mail or friend request any time now."

"Ok, hold up a second! You gave her a card?! Your card?! Have you ever heard of the term 'social suicide,' Rick?" Wiley was not happy. His reputation at school was in part connected to Rick's and the last thing he needed right before prom season was a blemish stemming from his friends unbelievable actions. "And if you tell me it was the very same hand-made card you came up with in lab last week..."

"Of course! That card was money!" Rick grinned ear to ear and as the pair pulled up to Val's Burgers & Malts, they noticed Margot's Pontiac in the parking lot.

"Here we go again," they said nearly simultaneously (though not in a fake way, as is prone to happen at culmination points in many a movie).

Rick had clearly gone off the deep. But who could blame him? Young love is perhaps the most complex, confusing and great thing one can experience. However, it is usually best when such strong feelings are reciprocated.