Graduate school was only six years away, so I couldn't afford to waste a single minute. The particular goal consuming me that evening was #2. Publish the definitive book on (TBD) by age 37. Marry a 6'5" blond surgeon (or judge) for love by age 25 have three children by age 35 (two girls, one boy).Ĥ. Graduate with honors from Vassar (and receive an honorary certificate because of the whole same name thing) then get PhD in (TBD) from an Ivy League school (TBD).ģ. Graduate valedictorian from the Seattle Academy of Academic Excellence (with a minimum of 5.3 GPA).Ģ. And no TV-because that's "living vicariously through other people." Dad was editing the proofs of his latest book, How to Increase Your Personal Productivity in 2,000 Easy Steps Mom was writing in her Journal of Excellence and I was tackling my Life Goals. We were sitting in our living room, my favorite room in the house, with its stone fireplace and floor-to-ceiling books-all in Dewey decimal system order. ("If it worked for Benjamin Franklin, it can work for us," as Mom would say.) THE PACKAGE CAME DURING THE HOUR OF REFLECTION, that sacred time after dinner when we peruse goals accomplished during the day and set goals for the day to come.
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