The Power of Positive Thinking

Today is the big day for Monkey. She takes her EPPP exam this morning, down in the state capital. I offered to drive her, but she said no. We have been thinking positive thoughts, and I ask that you do the same for her today, between 10am Central and about 3pm Central (just to be on the safe side).

Now, I don't expect that you will be able (or willing) to devote five prime day time hours to concentrating on directing your energies to Monkey as she sits in front of a computer and tries to diagnose medical and psychological conditions in vignettes about made up people that have a) gone nuts, b) smacked their head on a bed post, c) lost their marbles, d) boinked their melon off a windshield at thirty-seven miles per (not wearing a seatbelt, you know), e) all of the above. Any little bit, however, helps. Even if all you can manage is to puff out one second of positive energy for Monkey, in the middle of sticking a new pin in the voodoo doll of your boss that you keep in the big right hand drawer in your desk, under the folder of corporate references and that small, but well-known bottle of "cough syrup" that you need to hit about three to seven times a week. Even if all you can give her is a pair of positive ions that float out of your mental melange of regular thoughts, like, "I need a haircut," "Who am I, really?," and "Why is this can of tuna so hard to drain?"

Tonight, we will be celebrating the end of an era that I like to call, Monkey's Self-Enforced Bataan Death March of Studying. She won't know how she did on the test until the end of the month, so I'm sure she'll (and I'll) be a little nervous waiting for the results (which, of course, will be positive--positive thoughts), but, at least she won't have to study like it's a second full-time job any longer.

You go, Monkey!