I got a guitar for Christmas, and since then I have beenstruggling. It's kind of sad, to be honest, just how much turmoil something soseemingly harmless could cause in the life of your average teenage boy. Granted,it is surprising how much turmoil is generated by every little thing in the lifeof a teenager, but still, the chaos caused by my guitar stands out as rather ...unique. It has awakened within me a carefree, mellow procrastinator of a Mr.Hyde, where once only a motivated, focused Dr. Jekyll resided. And it couldn'thave happened at a more inopportune time.

You see, I'm a senior. I'mgoing to graduate soon, I know what college I'm going to, and if there's onething I don't need, it's something sapping my already-meager supply of motivationafter turning out nearly four years of quality work. And now I have to deal withthis little voice in my head constantly reminding me that I'm going to be a rockstar, not a scientist. And believe me, rock stars don't need to know aboutnuclear physics to be rich, famous and loved by everyone. The most science theyneed to know is that drugs will kill them (and many get by without knowingthat).

So you can see my dilemma. A few weeks ago I was given theseemingly simple task of writing a short story. No specifics, no hard-nosed ruleson organization. Just write. So Dr. Jekyll sat down to create a beautiful work offiction that would stun his teacher and amaze his classmates. To be honest, thisis an area I generally feel very strong in. Writing, that is. I really enjoy itand writing assignments often take the least amount of time to complete. Orshould I say, used to take the least amount of time.

So I was trying towrite my story, and across the room lay my beautiful Christmas present.

"Once upon a time," I wrote. Then I stopped, rotated myspinning chair, and stared for a moment at the instrument. Its burgundy finishwas glistening and I could see my reflection in its perfect complexion. And thenmy reflection started dancing and singing. I wasn't moving, but it sure was. Ifigured I'd follow its lead. So I grabbed my guitar and plucked a string. Thecrystal E sang out pure and heavenly, and there was no stopping what was coming.Transformed, I sat rocking on my guitar into the wee hours, convinced I waspreparing for the future much more efficiently now that I wasn't spending timeidly writing stories.

Needless to say, no story was written, and manydoubts arose in my mind about my sanity. Starting then, I have constantlyquestioned, "Am I normal for not wanting to do my work anymore?" I evenwrote to Dear Abby. More important, though, I learned I really am going to be arock star. And most important of all, I learned a new song.