Rarely have I experienced absolute perfection in my life, but it happened to me today.
We took a parasailing trip today. There I was on a boat in the middle of the Caribbean Sea. I had already taken my turn, so my nausea had passed. It was sunny, warm, but not hot, and the boat skipped along the gentle sea. I sat at the bow, my back to water, and looked at group I took the trip with -- people from my mom’s work. They were all smiling, laughing, taking pictures and planning the rest of their days.
It could have been a scene from a J.Crew catalog -- except none of our models were starving. Just then, Jason Mraz’s “I’m Yours” (a personal favorite) came on the boat’s stereo and the captain turned it up just a bit.
There it was -- perfection. Even my outfit felt right for the occasion. It was as if some cosmic Martin Scorsese had planned it all. I relaxed back into the sea breeze and tried to just enjoy it, because I knew it wouldn’t last forever.
And, of course, it didn’t. The song ended, the trip ended and back in the hotel room, as I logged onto my computer to upload my pictures from the day, there it was, sitting in my inbox -- the last of my grad school rejection letters.
I doubt even Marty could have planned it so perfectly.