San Diego Summer The summer after my second year in high school, I finally had the opportunity to live with my super-cool sister in San Diego for three weeks. It was going to be great! I would lie on the beach in the sun. Perhaps I would surf a little or ride my bike around Coronado Island.  Meanwhile, I would spend every morning, Monday through Friday, teaching YMCA (Young Men's Christian Association) kids how to play tennis...for FREE. Since college wasn't too far off, and since I had practically zero hours of community service, my volunteering at the YMCA was smart. I like tennis and I even kind of like little kids. Anyway, life was going to be amazing for those three weeks.  On my first day at the YMCA, I was shocked by the smallness of the children. The kids could barely grasp a racket , let alone swing one. This is when it occurred to me how potentially terrible the situation was--a group of thirty small children with rackets in hand and only four coaches. The odds were definitely against us. Luckily, the kids did not have blood on their minds, and they were  ly obedient and cooperative.  It soon became painfully obvious that I was the only "coach" actually coaching. Rather ironic when one considered that I was the only one of the four NOT being paid. I must admit, however, that despite all of my efforts these children were not getting much. I had to keep telling myself that while I couldn't enjoy the fruits of my labor at the moment, I would be reveling in the benefits once college application time came. Thus, I soldiered on.  As I returned home the day before the opening of school, I had complete peace of mind. Although I did not spend every day at the beach as I had initially hoped to do, I did accomplish several things and I felt as if I were a better person because of my three weeks in San Diego. Before going to San Diego the author was full of   _  .
expectation confidence doubt curiosity