Hamburgers' friends, Hamburgers and me at 2014 March Madness  in Raleigh, NC, to see University of Virginia crush Memphis

I don’t normally watch much television but I make it up during the NCAA March Madness tournament—during my teens and twenties, I would watch nearly all 48 hours of its first weekend of games. And that doesn’t even include time to complete my bracket. The tournament doubled as one of my favorite pastimes and as a symbol of joy and hope when I went through cancer treatment at 17 years old.

As I aged and became more professional, productive and ambitious, my inner child faded. I completed my bracket using strictly analytics and economic principles and not any gut instincts. My fading inner child reached a frightening level the year I worked through the first Thursday and Friday of the tournament.

And then I read The Little Prince in which its little character reminded me that adults are odd and far too focused on numbers and goals; too focused on small things and not the big picture; too unwilling to adventure. It was time to take back the child in me.

During this pay period prior to today, I worked extra hours, including all day yesterday when I also took time to visit George Mason University to speak to students. That was my sacrifice for today, when I am off work and absolve myself from being an adult. I have even corrupted friends who will join me, and from 12:30 p.m. onward we will be March Madnessing at Crystal City Sports Pub.

Maybe I am both an irresponsible child and sucky adult. I accept that. Besides, if the University of Virginia wins the Final Four then my adult will take my child to the bar and dance the Horah. That is not creepy coming from me because my bone marrow is only 11 years old, though you probably shouldn’t say it in public.

Here’s to being a kid again. Wahoowa.