Can you juggle? Years ago I learned to keep three balls in the air for a while, but I never worked at it hard enough to master it.
On the other hand, like the rest of you, I’ve been juggling things all my life. In college, I juggled schoolwork, a job, the party scene, and managed to get through it without destroying my grade point average. I juggled bills, spending money, and rides for lack of parking. I even went through a period in my life where I was pretty adept at juggling men.
And then there’s the jugular vein (which has nothing to do with the word I started with, but sounds close enough and it does start with “j”). When I was teaching sixth grade, I had a student (yes, a sixth grader—and that wasn’t half as bad as the one with the gun a couple of years later.) come at my jugular vein with a knife. I guess you don’t need to ask why I changed from teaching to law.
So, I’ve juggled many things, survived an attack to the jugular, and even dated a juggler for a few years. Most of my friends probably couldn’t tell you his name. He was simply “The Juggler.” The relationship was an adventure. You can’t imagine the places a juggler can get you into. We stayed in Elvis Presley’s Palm Springs home (long after Elvis was gone), had a shot of Louis the XIII Cognac with some producer in Hollywood (at $100 a shot—totally lost on me), and hung out with Robin Williams at the Comedy Club for hours after it had closed. The juggler, nine years younger than me, had a maturity level at least ten years less than that. But then, what did I expect? After all, I was dating a man who played with his balls for a living.
What do you have the most trouble juggling? Or the most fun?