“I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul.” So lovely. But if I’m the captain of my soul then someone else is definitely steering that ship. I am a child of the 60s. But of the goody 8 million shoes sit-in-the-front-of-the-class-and-raise-my-hand  variety. And I’m a military brat. So I believe in following instructions 100% of the time, unless I think they are stupid and then I circumvent them while feeling guilty. My political leanings are way left of Teddy Kennedy and I have a go with the flow attitude even though doing so often brings self-destruction.

All of which played out today. Work conference on a topic I believe in passionately. Helping immigrant ESL students succeed beyond my wildest dreams. So far so good vis a vis master of my fate and captain of my soul. Details? Pshaw….they will flawlessly work themselves out. So when my boss asked me if I wanted to attend this conference I said sure…of course…why not…sounds awesome. The details? Ummmm….ah…..AAUUGGHH. Panicked text to my boss this morning. What time should I be there? I got a substitute for work but am I supposed to go to work first? Her reply….”Where are you??”  AAUUGGHH

I thought I had to be there at 8:30 but on review I thought maybe it was 11:30…but if it was 8:30 then I’d be screwed. So I flew out of the house, broke the land speed record, found a parking spot and with my blood pressure at 210/210 I rushed into the building. To then be told “What conference? Are you sure you’re in the right building?” I was. Just 3 hours early.

So back to work then back to the conference. “I am the master of my fate.” Well, that’s for sure.