Needless to say, all the things that have happened so far this year have heightened my stress-level just a tad. Sleep evades me. I can't shut off my brain to block out all the worry.
And then I saw this today.
Wednesday, March 5, 2014
That Just Happened
So 2014...yeah, it hasn't been that great so far. I crashed a rental car in Utah. I got really sick after my Utah trip and still haven't fully recovered. I didn't get a job I wanted. My desktop computer monitor and my laptop charger both decided to stop working at the same time so I had to break the bank a little more and get new ones. I found out a guy I really liked doesn't like me back. As I was driving to work a couple of weeks ago, a woman rear-ended me in my beautiful blue, brand spankin' new 2014 Honda Accord that I leased in December. I've gotten to know the people at AAA a little too well for my taste. I feel like I need a change but I'm not sure where to go. My student loan payments are now in full swing...
Needless to say, all the things that have happened so far this year have heightened my stress-level just a tad. Sleep evades me. I can't shut off my brain to block out all the worry.
And then I saw this today.
I need to stop worrying about all the things I can't change and start doing things about what I have control over. Yeah, some (for lack of a better word) crappy things have happened to me this year. But I need to roll with the punches instead of letting them overpower me. Yeah. That happened. Now, move on!
Needless to say, all the things that have happened so far this year have heightened my stress-level just a tad. Sleep evades me. I can't shut off my brain to block out all the worry.
And then I saw this today.
Thursday, February 20, 2014
Name Frustration
I saw this article on Buzzfeed yesterday and found that I could relate to several of the items listed. Before I proceed, let me assure you that I really like my name. I am not at all annoyed with my parents for naming me Celia. But I will say that having a unique first name has led to some uncomfortable situations.
- Every time I answer the phone at work: *Phone rings.* "Unalp CPA. This is Celia." "Oh hello, Julia, is Melodie available?" "Yes, let me transfer your call over to her." "Thank you, Julia." I feel like if I ever want people to hear my name correctly over the phone I'm going to have to hiss out the first syllable like a snake. "This is C-s-s-s-elia."
- Every time I go to a place like Jamba Juice and they ask for a name to match to the order, I cringe a little. Do I give them my first name? My last name? My middle name just for kicks? There was one time I told the girl behind the counter my name. She looked uncomfortable and confused so I spelled it out for her. "C-E-L-I-A." A look of comprehension finally dawned on her face and she said, "Oh, for a moment there I thought you were saying Si-we-uh. Okay, that makes more sense." Really? Do I need speech therapy now as well as a new name?
- On the first day of school in 5th grade, my teacher read out the roll. When she came to my name, she said, "Cell-ya Christensen?" Being the shy little 10-year old that I was at the time, I didn't correct her. At recess, all the other kids were telling me that I needed to tell Mrs. Cashion that she was saying my name wrong. Why this was such a difficult thing for me I have no idea. I finally gathered up my courage to tell my teacher she was saying my name wrong just after the bell rang to go home for the day. So stressful! ;)
- People constantly spell my name wrong. I can understand how that might happen but it can still be annoying sometimes. I saw Cilia on Valentine's cards in elementary school far too often. People who had known me for years sent me cards in the mail that were addressed to Ceila Christensen. (My last name has been spelled a variety of ways as well: Christiansen, Christenson, Christianson...the list goes on.) The one that gets me the most is when people write Cecilia. There is only one C in my name when you say my name. ONE C!!! My name has two syllables, NOT THREE! (Although, some people disagree with me on that and say that the proper way to say my name does actually have three syllables, but that's a whole other story.)
- Because my name is difficult for some to pronounce, I have had to come up with an easy way to explain it. In high school, I started telling people, "It's SEAL, like the animal, and YA, like 'See ya later.' Seal-ya." Explaining it that way made sense to people but it also gave me the nickname of Seal, a term of endearment that endures to this day. I used to dislike it but now it's just what close friends call me. (If you don't call me that on a regular basis already, don't get any ideas. Only a select few are allowed to call me that.)
Monday, January 20, 2014
Childhood Reminiscing Session #3: Laws of Physics
Starting in 6th grade, school stress and assignments began to take its toll on my sleeping habits. Foothill Middle School isn't exactly the easiest school out there in terms of homework load. I remember having to construct pyramids for history class, do reports on specific countries for geography, do daily write-ups for science, do a seemingly endless number of word problems for math, do research papers for P.E., practice my part in orchestra, try to learn a new language, etc. I would say that my troubles with sleeping began during these formative years. As more homework assignments started rolling in, I began staying up later and getting up earlier. I would wake up in the middle of the night worrying about due dates and presentations in class. Even when I was exhausted, I had difficulty shutting off my brain enough to fall asleep.
The insomnia only escalated further when I hit high school and began attending early morning seminary. Every morning, I rolled out of bed at 4:25 AM so that I could shower, get dressed, dry my hair, eat breakfast, get any last minute homework done, and be at the Northgate Chapel on time for 6:00 seminary. When I came home from school, I sat at the table and did all of my homework until I finished late in the evening. Unlike some high schools in the area, we did not have block schedules where we only had certain classes on specific days of the week. We had all of our classes every day. Each day we were assigned a new homework load, and I was not one to skip out on assignments or only do them halfway. After finishing all of my homework as best I could, I would steal into bed around 10:00 or 11:00 at night just to toss and turn and get up the next morning at 4:25 to start the whole process over again.
One day during my sophomore year of high school, I had had a particularly troublesome night sleep. I had gone to bed only a couple of hours before getting up to get ready that morning. As usual, I rolled out of bed when my alarm went off at 4:25. My eyes remained closed during the entirety of the hot shower that followed. I got ready without even really noticing what I was putting on. My Dad took me to seminary where I sat in silence, eyes glassy and chin resting on my arm. The kids with cars then drove us over to the school where we started our A Period classes at 7:00 AM, mine being Chemistry. I sat down in my assigned seat in the front row of the classroom. Mr. Moniz turned the lights off while we watched a short film on elements combining to make molecules. I could feel myself drifting...I vaguely remember hearing Mr. Moniz say, "For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction." A question flitted across my mind as to why we were talking about physics in chemistry. Then I was rudely pulled out of my stupor by a loud THWACK on my desk. My head shot up, my arms flew out to my sides, and I looked up to find Mr. Moniz standing over me with a ruler in hand. "See!" He exclaimed, "That was quite the reaction!"
Needless to say, I never fell asleep in class again no matter how tired I was...at least not until college :)
The insomnia only escalated further when I hit high school and began attending early morning seminary. Every morning, I rolled out of bed at 4:25 AM so that I could shower, get dressed, dry my hair, eat breakfast, get any last minute homework done, and be at the Northgate Chapel on time for 6:00 seminary. When I came home from school, I sat at the table and did all of my homework until I finished late in the evening. Unlike some high schools in the area, we did not have block schedules where we only had certain classes on specific days of the week. We had all of our classes every day. Each day we were assigned a new homework load, and I was not one to skip out on assignments or only do them halfway. After finishing all of my homework as best I could, I would steal into bed around 10:00 or 11:00 at night just to toss and turn and get up the next morning at 4:25 to start the whole process over again.
One day during my sophomore year of high school, I had had a particularly troublesome night sleep. I had gone to bed only a couple of hours before getting up to get ready that morning. As usual, I rolled out of bed when my alarm went off at 4:25. My eyes remained closed during the entirety of the hot shower that followed. I got ready without even really noticing what I was putting on. My Dad took me to seminary where I sat in silence, eyes glassy and chin resting on my arm. The kids with cars then drove us over to the school where we started our A Period classes at 7:00 AM, mine being Chemistry. I sat down in my assigned seat in the front row of the classroom. Mr. Moniz turned the lights off while we watched a short film on elements combining to make molecules. I could feel myself drifting...I vaguely remember hearing Mr. Moniz say, "For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction." A question flitted across my mind as to why we were talking about physics in chemistry. Then I was rudely pulled out of my stupor by a loud THWACK on my desk. My head shot up, my arms flew out to my sides, and I looked up to find Mr. Moniz standing over me with a ruler in hand. "See!" He exclaimed, "That was quite the reaction!"
Needless to say, I never fell asleep in class again no matter how tired I was...at least not until college :)
An Eventful Week
I went to Utah this past week for my old roommate Melissa's wedding. Since the cheapest flights I could find ran from Wednesday to Saturday, I figured I would use the extra time in Utah to set up interviews. I sent out my resume to several law firms and corporate legal departments. One responded. Considering the small number of applications I sent out, I figured that was actually a pretty good ratio. After speaking with the HR person, the interview was set up for 2:00 on Wednesday.
So I got up at 3:00 AM on Wednesday so I could have time to make myself look professional for my interview but also make my 6:00 AM flight in time. Mom drove me to the Oakland airport and I arrived there at 5:15. I've never been anywhere close to late for a flight but I guess we all need to have the experience of just barely making it sometime. I stood in the security line for 40 minutes. I'm pretty sure we all wanted to slap the lady in front of us who decided to drop her ID in her large purse before entering the security line and then spend five minutes searching for it when she made it up to the desk. I finally got through the line at 5:55 and then practically ran in my heels all the way to my gate. They were just about to close the doors when I shuffled down the hallway, panting and a little warm in my disheveled business attire.
We landed around 8:30 in Salt Lake. I had made a reservation for a rental car at Advantage so I walked down the stairs to the rental car section of the airport. Let me just say that getting a rental car when you are four months shy of 25 years of age is the most aggravating thing ever. They add $25 a day to your fees when you are underage. Not only that, rental car companies usually only accept credit cards for payment with a few exceptions for debit cards. Since I only have a debit card, Advantage required that I put down a $350 deposit for a credit check. I wasn't about to do that so the lady behind the counter suggested I try Thrifty. Their deposit was much smaller and they gave me a free upgrade to a Mustang Convertible. So I went and picked up the keys, put my luggage in the car, and was just about to pull away when I realized that I couldn't change gears in the car. I tried and tried to put the car into reverse but the dumb thing wouldn't budge. Feeling like an idiot, I went back up to the Thrifty window and told them I couldn't figure out how to change gears. The girl behind the counter came out to show me how it worked. Only thing is, she couldn't figure it out either. Needless to say, I felt slightly better about myself. She called someone else to come and try and it didn't work for him either. Just when he was about to suggest that I rent another car, his knee bumped the steering wheel and he was able to put the car in reverse. I guess the steering wheel was locked.
So, feeling slightly out of place in a car that was just a tad different from my own, I pulled out of the parking lot and headed to my sister's in Saratoga Springs. Having eaten only peanuts on my Southwest flight that day, I was happy to have a bite to eat at my sister's before heading to downtown Salt Lake for my interview. I arrived at the parking garage at 1:15. I walked around the corner into a ritzy office building. I took the elevator up to the 9th floor where the doors opened into the most classy office space I've ever set eyes on. After waiting for a moment in an extremely comfy chair next to the receptionist's desk, I was guided by the HR person into a conference room with a large glossy table and a panoramic view of Salt Lake. She sat across the table from me and asked me questions about my experience for 30 minutes. She told me that as a corporate paralegal in this firm, I would be working for the 15 corporate lawyers who worked there. At around 2:00, the door opened and seven lawyers came streaming into the room. All of them had copies of my resume on hand that they had highlighted and marked up so they could ask me questions. More lawyers streamed in and out as the interview went on. After about an hour of sitting there being grilled by experienced attorneys (grilled is probably the wrong word; they were actually all surprisingly nice), they all shook my hand and left the room. The HR person told me she thought that the interview went well and that they seemed impressed. She even called it "delightful." While I had other words to describe it, I did feel good about it. Even if I don't get this job, I am grateful for that experience. I feel good that such a big prestigious firm even considered me as a possible candidate. If I can get an interview there, I can get an interview anywhere.
I spent the night and the next day feeling quite confident and proud of myself. The next morning I drove to Provo in my Mustang Convertible for Melissa's "Bachelorette Party" at Kneaders and to see some other old friends. It was great to get all of my freshman year roommates, the Domestic Goddesses as we call ourselves, all together again. These girls helped me to break out of my shy little shell and I am grateful for their friendship.
But when we become too prideful, we all need to be humbled, I suppose. First, my mom called me and told me she thought I had forgotten my temple recommend, which on closer inspection of my wallet, I found that that was true. I had to call my bishop and the Draper Temple so I could attend the sealing. Second, as I was driving to the Draper Temple the next morning to go to Melissa and Curtis' sealing, I had a little incident on the road. As I was making a right turn on a narrow road, I had a little brush with a semi-truck that was coming the opposite direction. My front left fender grazed one of it's wheels and put a pretty serious "dent" just above my front left wheel. Okay, it was a little more than a dent. I pulled off the road just around the corner and sat in stunned silence for a while before calling my mom. Mom told me I needed to get to the temple to make it in time for the wedding and that I should just try to forget about it until I could focus on it fully. So I continued on my way, hearing something scrape under the car every time I hit a bump. This was not good.
But I made it to the temple on time and was pleasantly surprised to see my friend Jen's Dad behind the front desk. It's always nice to see an unexpected familiar face when you're in the depths of despair. I found all of my old roommates sitting there. They consoled me about my recent hardship and told me it was going to be okay. The sealing was beautiful and I was thankful that I was able to be there for Melissa's special day.
On the way back to Brigitte's from the luncheon, the stress and emotions of the day finally caught up with me. I sobbed into Brigitte's shoulder when I arrived at her house. Everyone kept telling me that everything was going to be alright, but how could it be? I had just caused serious damage to someone else's property! I'd have to call the rental place and tell them about my stupidity! I'd have to pay the deductible and my insurance premiums would go up! But things become a little clearer as time goes on. I realized after talking to my insurance agent that, yeah, this was going to cost me some money but it could have been a lot worse. I could have been injured but I wasn't actually hurt at all...physically anyway. So I continued on with all my plans and had a cinnamon roll and big slice of chocolate cake at the reception with the rest of the Domestic Goddesses. I was able to chat and laugh late into the night with my sister. I was able to see old friends that I rarely see since I graduated from BYU. Despite a few minor (and major) hiccups, it was a great trip and a vacation that was well worth the trouble.
So I got up at 3:00 AM on Wednesday so I could have time to make myself look professional for my interview but also make my 6:00 AM flight in time. Mom drove me to the Oakland airport and I arrived there at 5:15. I've never been anywhere close to late for a flight but I guess we all need to have the experience of just barely making it sometime. I stood in the security line for 40 minutes. I'm pretty sure we all wanted to slap the lady in front of us who decided to drop her ID in her large purse before entering the security line and then spend five minutes searching for it when she made it up to the desk. I finally got through the line at 5:55 and then practically ran in my heels all the way to my gate. They were just about to close the doors when I shuffled down the hallway, panting and a little warm in my disheveled business attire.
We landed around 8:30 in Salt Lake. I had made a reservation for a rental car at Advantage so I walked down the stairs to the rental car section of the airport. Let me just say that getting a rental car when you are four months shy of 25 years of age is the most aggravating thing ever. They add $25 a day to your fees when you are underage. Not only that, rental car companies usually only accept credit cards for payment with a few exceptions for debit cards. Since I only have a debit card, Advantage required that I put down a $350 deposit for a credit check. I wasn't about to do that so the lady behind the counter suggested I try Thrifty. Their deposit was much smaller and they gave me a free upgrade to a Mustang Convertible. So I went and picked up the keys, put my luggage in the car, and was just about to pull away when I realized that I couldn't change gears in the car. I tried and tried to put the car into reverse but the dumb thing wouldn't budge. Feeling like an idiot, I went back up to the Thrifty window and told them I couldn't figure out how to change gears. The girl behind the counter came out to show me how it worked. Only thing is, she couldn't figure it out either. Needless to say, I felt slightly better about myself. She called someone else to come and try and it didn't work for him either. Just when he was about to suggest that I rent another car, his knee bumped the steering wheel and he was able to put the car in reverse. I guess the steering wheel was locked.
So, feeling slightly out of place in a car that was just a tad different from my own, I pulled out of the parking lot and headed to my sister's in Saratoga Springs. Having eaten only peanuts on my Southwest flight that day, I was happy to have a bite to eat at my sister's before heading to downtown Salt Lake for my interview. I arrived at the parking garage at 1:15. I walked around the corner into a ritzy office building. I took the elevator up to the 9th floor where the doors opened into the most classy office space I've ever set eyes on. After waiting for a moment in an extremely comfy chair next to the receptionist's desk, I was guided by the HR person into a conference room with a large glossy table and a panoramic view of Salt Lake. She sat across the table from me and asked me questions about my experience for 30 minutes. She told me that as a corporate paralegal in this firm, I would be working for the 15 corporate lawyers who worked there. At around 2:00, the door opened and seven lawyers came streaming into the room. All of them had copies of my resume on hand that they had highlighted and marked up so they could ask me questions. More lawyers streamed in and out as the interview went on. After about an hour of sitting there being grilled by experienced attorneys (grilled is probably the wrong word; they were actually all surprisingly nice), they all shook my hand and left the room. The HR person told me she thought that the interview went well and that they seemed impressed. She even called it "delightful." While I had other words to describe it, I did feel good about it. Even if I don't get this job, I am grateful for that experience. I feel good that such a big prestigious firm even considered me as a possible candidate. If I can get an interview there, I can get an interview anywhere.
I spent the night and the next day feeling quite confident and proud of myself. The next morning I drove to Provo in my Mustang Convertible for Melissa's "Bachelorette Party" at Kneaders and to see some other old friends. It was great to get all of my freshman year roommates, the Domestic Goddesses as we call ourselves, all together again. These girls helped me to break out of my shy little shell and I am grateful for their friendship.
 |
| Kory, Sandee, Caitlin, Melissa, Shauntelle, and me at the Draper Temple. |
Thursday, January 2, 2014
2013: A Year in Perspective
Uh, can you believe it's 2014?! 2013 flew by faster than any other year in my life. Like any year, there were ups and downs and twists and turns but, for the most part, it was a good year for me. It was a year filled with big momentous occasions as well as several small victories. Here are some of the things that happened this year that gave me cause for celebration:
- Disneyland: Going to Disneyland in February was the first pleasure trip I paid for all on my own. I bought my own tickets to Utah but those trips were to visit family and friends, not to see the sights and to focus primarily on amusement. This trip was all about having fun and taking a break from adulthood for just a few days.
- Becoming a Notary: When Melodie's notarial authority was up for renewal, it was decided that I would take over the role of notary within the office. So I went to an all-day class, passed the test, and got a letter from the California Secretary of State stating that I was now officially a notary public. I had to go to the courthouse in Martinez and swear that I would uphold the Constitution. I felt so official and grown-up ;).
- Going through the temple for the first time: No, I'm not going on a mission and I'm not getting married just yet, but I wanted to go through the temple. So I did. And it has been great to be able to progress a little more and to go with family members to the temple.
- Washington, D.C.: This was another pleasure trip I paid for all on my own. I had always wanted to go to the nation's capital and experience the history found there. So when I saw surprisingly cheap tickets to the east coast on sale from Virgin Airlines, I decided that this was as good a time to go as any. Luckily I have friends who live in Washington, D.C. who were willing to let me stay with them while I wandered around the city for a few days. It was just about the best vacation ever!
- Getting a driver's license: Yes, I am embarrassed to say that I got my license to drive a car a good eight years after I could have gotten it. But better late than never, right? I drove on the freeway for the first time this year. After I exited and we were driving the streets of Pittsburg, Mom asked me if I was proud of myself. "If I were 16 years old, I would be." Nevertheless, I have a driver's license now. Who cares if I happened to be 24 when I got it?
- Becoming certified on Accounting software: I work for an accountant/lawyer. I was hired for the legal side of the business but I ended up doing mostly accounting/bookkeeping work. As a result, I had to become certified on a new accounting software that we would be implementing in 2013. Who would have thought I would ever be certified in accounting software?
- Becoming a "certificated" paralegal: I finished my paralegal program! I just got my certificate in the mail a couple of days ago! It feels wonderful to be done with school and to actually be a somewhat marketable member of the workforce!
- Leasing a car: My Dad and I set out a couple of Saturdays ago to test drive some cars. I wasn't planning on buying anything that day. I was just going to see what cars I liked the most and what felt the best to drive. So I test drove the Chevy Cruze and then the Kia Optima. Both were nice cars that I actually really liked. But then we headed over to the Honda dealership and I test drove a 2014 Honda Accord. For some reason, this car just felt right. It felt easy to drive, I liked the way it looked, and it has a camera that shows what is behind you when you're in reverse. The triple threat. So we went inside, they crunched some numbers, and I decided to lease a 2014 Honda Accord. I can't tell you how wonderful it has been to be able to drive to the store on my own, to drive myself to church and work, to not have to ask for rides to activities...FREEDOM IS MINE!!!!!
Just look at that beauty!
Happy New Year! Let's hope 2014 is even better than the last!
Tuesday, December 17, 2013
Childhood Reminiscing Session #2: The Time I Almost Drowned
All of us kids loved to swim when we were little. Since we never had a pool, the highlights of our summers were spent in our neighbors' pools or the pools of charitable ward members who didn't mind a few screaming kids running around their backyards. When we lived in the house on Stillwater Court, we were fortunate to have three friendly neighbors equipped with this luxurious amenity and we took advantage of it as much as we could.
On one particular day when I was five or six, my siblings and I suited up and walked down the street, towels slung over our shoulders, to enjoy a fun afternoon at the Dito family pool. While the boys and my sisters were splashing away in the deep end of the pool, I stayed in the shallow end to practice my "Tea Party" skills. If you don't remember that game, the rules are fairly simple: All the participants have to see how long they can sit Indian-style (or cross-legged, whatever the politically correct way to say that is now days) at the bottom of the pool before floating back up to the surface or running out of breath. It's like you're having a "Tea Party" at the bottom of the pool. So I took a deep breath and plunged down to the bottom of the pool, propelling myself downward until my bum hit solid ground. For some reason, this attempt was different than the others, mainly because it had worked just a little too well. I was at the bottom of the pool looking up at the sun rays shining through the water, and even my little five-year old brain realized that I was not going to make it back to the surface without help.
Just as I was about to run completely out of air, someone grabbed me under my arms and pulled me out of the water. My brother, Kiel, sat me down on the side of the pool, looked into my face, and said firmly, "Go home." And I did. I found my towel, wrapped it around my dripping body, and walked three houses down to my own front door.
Strangely enough, I don't remember being scared during the experience. My little brush with death didn't seem out of the ordinary at all to me. Afraid that Mom and Dad would bar us from swimming if I happened to mention that I nearly drowned that day, I chose not to say anything about it. And we enjoyed many more afternoons at the neighbors' pool that summer and many more summers to come.
On one particular day when I was five or six, my siblings and I suited up and walked down the street, towels slung over our shoulders, to enjoy a fun afternoon at the Dito family pool. While the boys and my sisters were splashing away in the deep end of the pool, I stayed in the shallow end to practice my "Tea Party" skills. If you don't remember that game, the rules are fairly simple: All the participants have to see how long they can sit Indian-style (or cross-legged, whatever the politically correct way to say that is now days) at the bottom of the pool before floating back up to the surface or running out of breath. It's like you're having a "Tea Party" at the bottom of the pool. So I took a deep breath and plunged down to the bottom of the pool, propelling myself downward until my bum hit solid ground. For some reason, this attempt was different than the others, mainly because it had worked just a little too well. I was at the bottom of the pool looking up at the sun rays shining through the water, and even my little five-year old brain realized that I was not going to make it back to the surface without help.
Strangely enough, I don't remember being scared during the experience. My little brush with death didn't seem out of the ordinary at all to me. Afraid that Mom and Dad would bar us from swimming if I happened to mention that I nearly drowned that day, I chose not to say anything about it. And we enjoyed many more afternoons at the neighbors' pool that summer and many more summers to come.
Sunday, December 8, 2013
Little Drummer Boy
In Relief Society today, we talked about how many of us struggle with feelings of inadequacy. We are sometimes asked to do things that we think are far beyond our reach, that we don't possess the capability to accomplish them.
I recently heard a version of the Christmas carol Little Drummer Boy by Pentatonix. (If you have managed to stay ignorant of their music video even with the postings and repostings of it on Facebook, you can find the link below.) I'll be honest, I've never really cared for this song. I guess I had previously only heard the really cheesy versions they play on the radio sometimes. But for some reason, this version allowed me to actually listen to the lyrics and realize what this song is all about. I've listed them below (minus all of the "pa-rum-pum-pum-pums").
Come, they told me
A new born king to see.
Our finest gifts to bring
To lay before the King
So to honor Him
When we come.
Little baby,
I am a poor boy, too.
I have no gift to bring
That's fit to give our King.
Shall I play for you
On my drum?
Mary nodded.
The ox and lamb kept time.
I played my drum for him.
I played my best for him.
Then he smiled at me,
me and my drum.
This song is all about feeling inadequate. It's about feeling like what you have to offer isn't good enough. It's about seeing the talents and wealth of your peers and feeling like you will never measure up to their accomplishments. But as this simple song suggests, it doesn't matter if you're rich or poor, strong or weak, talented or seemingly ordinary. It doesn't matter if all you have to offer up is a beat on a cheap drum. As long as you give your best, it is enough.
Merry Christmas everyone!
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