It’s the first day of summer and I’ve never been more indecisive. My sister is currently on speaker phone expecting me to leave for Chicago in an hour or so for a visit. She’s ranting about all the things we’ll get to do together once I arrive. I’m hoping she can’t hear my desperate pleading in the background as I’m whispering to my mom that I don’t want to go. I catch my sister’s voice saying that we’ll go to a Blackhawks game. I’ve always wanted to go to a Blackhawks game. I guess it won’t be too bad, I think to myself. Then, that same thought that’s been nagging at me all morning occurs again. Everyone will be there: my competitive cousins, childhood friends, and unfamiliar relatives who I haven’t seen since I was a kid, and who I barely
