"I hope you're more accurate when you operate on people." My dad said.
Any sane person would clearly give up by this point. But as previously mentioned, I'm not sane. And I made another one. 4th time is apparently the charm, because my smore got nice and melted hot. But when I went to grab my smore off the two sticks, it indeed, was really hot. And when things are hot, you drop them. So my smore again went into the fire. At this point my hunger and frustration became the priority, and I reached my hand into the pit and picked up the smore. I ate the part that wasn't covered in soot. Desperate, I know.
You might be wondering how this is relevant to anything at all (because I am, after that long tangent). Now that you have concrete evidence of my craziness, though, you'll better understand the next part. I do things that normal people realize are ridiculous, stupid, and seemingly impossible without a second thought. I'm sure there are others out there like me too, but most people I meet are rather rational in comparison to myself. If your'e going to do something, do it well, I figure. What's the point of getting involved if you aren't going to truly commit yourself? I admit I'm no perfectionist regarding this topic. Often in math class I'll diverge from actual topics of math and go to a land of pleasant thoughts, free of derivatives and taylor polynomials (seriously who uses those things anyways?). And if I don't pay attention, I find myself relaxing through just about everything I do, regardless of how important it is.
Fortunately I'm pretty hard on myself. So generally I push myself to go above and beyond whatever's required of me (even though I often fail) simply because I don't believe in half-committing. This is how I wound up with Tying Up Cancer. And how I started The Tuclet Initiative. Certainly, it's also how I decided that I'd not only give bracelets to cancer patients, but I'd give bracelets to a thousand of them. 1000. Sold at $5 each, that will ultimately be $5000 for pediatric cancer research. Big dreams for an 18 year old? Personally, I wouldn't say so. But I'll be honest I have yet to tell anyone because I know 92% of them will think I'm nuts.
Sometimes, my crazy ways aren't even exactly my crazy ways. Sometimes life just happens, and I go along with it (I'm a big believer that everything happens for a reason). When I got the idea for "Bracelets for Patients" (The Tuclet Initiative) I needed some way to package the bracelet and include a little message for the recipients. I resolved that flat poly bags would do the trick. But apparently everyone who buys said bags buys them in large amounts. I'm talking, a case is 1000. And here they are, offering you discounts if you buy like 10 or 50 cases or something. I needed maybe 100 bags, not 10,000. I wasn't that upset though, because they sold that whole case of 1000 for about $8. I would've been happy paying that for 100, so it didn't really bother me that I couldn't buy only what I needed.
You can see where this is going, eh? Well I really had no other use for 4" poly bags other than that of giving bracelets to patients. So I decided to expand my initial "Bracelets for Patients" scheme into a whole initiative (see, I didn't really plan this one ahead of time, life just nicely dealt it to me). The Tuclet Initiative (Tying Up Cancer spells Tuc, and they're braceLETs, if you didn't know where Tuclet comes from). And really, initiative just makes the whole gig sound exciting, doesn't it? So I'm setting out on a journey (I'm also known for being dramatic, in addition to insane) to sell 1000 bracelets for cancer patients. The journey concept makes it sound fun, until I remember that to give 1000 bracelets, I have to make 1000 bracelets. That's about 1000 hours, or 41 and 2/3rds days. Of. Straight. Friendship. Bracelet. Making. Yeah I like bracelets, but who has enough patience to do anything for 41 days straight? Like all my crazy adventures, I'm sure it'll be rewarding. Like biting into that 4th smore. And like my mom said, after the 4th smore fell into the fire pit, "sometimes it's about the journey, not the result." (she didn't realize I was going to salvage the smore). In this case, I think the journey, along with the destination, will be rewarding.
Now may I suggest that you go purchase a bracelet for a patient?