Timing Is Everything
Fate here to provide a lesson from my therapist’s mouth to yours on the power of adapting to adverse conditions. Or maybe that was the biologist who appealed to me for help after claiming I was the cause of him being ostracized from his church, his colleagues, and his community…who can keep ‘em straight, amirite?
Fate,
I was literally born with a skewed sense of timing. Had I been born one day earlier, I would have been the oldest of the students in the grade below me, but as it was, I wound up being the youngest of the students in the grade I was in. Research suggests that surely being that far behind the bulk of my classmates, even if it was by a matter of weeks to months, was the reason I struggled so much with classwork, homework, and team sports.
I got chicken pox three months before the vaccine was available. I didn’t get symptoms until the very end of the last day of class fall semester, when my mom sent me to school because I faked sick so much she was sure I was doing it again, and then had to spend the entirety of Christmas break cooped up away from my family and friends with a fever and the constant itching, only to be just fine when school and all the struggles that came with it started up again.
The year I took the SATs was the year the College Board switched from the 1600 point system with no mandatory writing portion to the 2400 point system where essay writing, never my strongest subject, became a required part of the package. The local college I did manage to get into instituted strict caps on their financial aid packages that year. They also dropped the major I had wanted to get my degree in just as I was eligible to declare it (and had already gotten a good amount of the introductory classes out of the way).
I busted my ass to graduate a year early in spite of all this and did so…just as the Great Recession was declared and employers stopped hiring. I probably would’ve been okay, because my parents had been planning to move away, rent out part of their old house/my childhood home, and let me due landlord/property management duties, but the rental market dried up and I was forced to move back in with them with no resume-padding opportunities (and also living with my parents again, le sigh).
I’d gotten a degree in computer sciences, which should’ve led to all sorts of opportunities, but every tech firm or private development co. I joined would fold within months of me coming on board. I did manage to save up money which I’d invest, only to have whatever promising company I’d bought stock in collapse overnight due to being busted for fraudulent practices or whatnot.
I finally got a stable-sounding opportunity a couple years ago. I was set to start on March 16th, 2020. Two days before that, most of the US followed the example of most of the rest of the world and shut down in a mostly useless attempt to stop the COVID-19 pandemic in its tracks. My new company immediately switched to remote work for its existing employees, and for those like me who would have to be physically present in order to do our jobs (the role was in computer hardware rather than software), well, we were S.O.L. And speaking of the ‘rona, there’s another fun disease I caught just before the vaccine was made available. This time, I got it a week before I would have been eligible to get my first dose from the local pharmacy. For having an allegedly mild case, I sure do have an awful lot of trouble breathing when I walk across parking lots still, not to mention feeling slower and even shorter on attention than I used to be.
The big picture’s bad enough, but there’s also other, pettier stuff: trying to take Mom out to her favorite restaurant only to find that they’ve changed their schedule and we’re going there on the day they’re closed. Trying to take a date to see a movie only to find that the theater’s shut down to deal with an emergency flooding situation. Not having time to claim a Buy One, Get One Free coupon until the day after it expires.
My grandmother always used to tell me that “God chooses his toughest warriors to fight his greatest crusades,” but Fate, can’t you (or Him, or whoever) cut me a break once in a while?
Your God may indeed want strong warriors, but I believe He (or I, or whoever) also needs test dummies to see how the status quo compares to the new idea in order to verify whether “new” also means “improved.” Sometimes, He/I/Whoever will let our guinea pigs - er, subjects - flip from the control to the experimental group, and as with all experiments, the outcome is uncertain until we let the test run its course.
It’s not all the time that we have a favorite subject whose results provide constant amusement, of course.