My mother has a problem with my lifestyle. I knew that pretty much from the get-go. She's had a problem with it since I was born, so I wasn't surprised that she was upset about my choice of career.
I was typing in my travel notes when she sat at the table with a bowl of soup.
"You know, Savannah, I'm still trying to get my head wrapped around the fact that you're an archeologist."
"You should be proud of me, mom," I told her. "I'm studying ancient cultures, traveling around the world, and meeting new people. I'm happier than I've ever been in my life."
"Savannah, I see that this work does make you happy. It's just that -- I worry about you, going all these places, why? You could find fulfillment right here in town."
"Mom, you know I never really 'fit in,' not in this family nor at school. When I was a teenager I kept a lot of my activities secret. I didn't tell anyone I was president of the school chess club. Why? Because I was trying my darndest to 'blend in.' But Ari showed me I didn't have to do that. I could just be me. All those times I broke curfew, you think I was out drinking and smoking and partying? Heck no. I was either in the library reading or exploring the catacombs at the local cemetery. There was the one time I was at Clarice's house. When it comes down to it, I'm a big fat geek, mom, just like you and dad and Aunt Margaret."
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