I just found out that J.K. Rowling is worth $1 billion. That's a heckuva lot of money, especially considering she used to be on welfare. Not many women are that rich. Not many men, either; to put it in perspective, Donald Trump is worth $2.5 billion.

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I was swimming a couple of days ago at the pool, in the medium speed lane. Normally this lane suits my ability perfectly, but two things were different that day: 1. I had a new surge of skill and energy that made me swim faster than I have before, and 2. there were quite a few stragglers who belonged in the slow lane, or worse yet, in the wading pool. As I passed people up and down the lane, I wondered, who are these people, who swim in the medium lane when they obviously don't belong here? I grew annoyed until I realized that I no longer belonged there either. Yet I didn't want to switch to the fast lane. Why? I was comfortable in the medium lane. It was my domain; I was a big fish in a small pond. Or maybe a fast fish in a slow pond. Anyway. I was just as guilty of self-assigning to the wrong lane, but I'd rather be the best of the middle than the worst of the best. Does that make any sense?

The reason I posted that here is because I think that's a recurrent theme in my life. Friends, you know what I'm talking about. Isn't that apt?