Rantin' Rampage

I just want to get some frustrations out. You can call this complaining, arrogance, impatience, a little gossipy, and other various terrible things and you'd be right. 

But as of this moment, I don't care very much. Another terrible thing.

I worked 3 shifts today. I was in a very small store, the same store I'm in almost every day, from 10:30am-6pm, and again from 9pm-1:15am. That's a lot. The morning/afternoon shifts went by fine. I worked with mostly friends and we got mostly stuff done. Tonight though...ugh. 

It felt like a wake-up call about my own generation and it makes me glad I'm not in school anymore.

Practical Common Sense isn't so common anymore. One of my coworkers was having what seemed to be legitimate mental struggles in trying to figure out how and why we refill the syrup bottles every night. 
Why? So the morning shift has one less thing to worry about. And no, it's not unsanitary if you do it the right way (meaning: hey, the syrup comes out the bottom of the bottle, so refill it from the top and it naturally cycles through in an appropriate amount of time. she's been filling them from the bottom this whole time, turning the bottles upside down.)
How? In the top. But the syrup is so thick and has been refrigerated!! How do i get it from the can to the bottle? Hmm..this is difficult, I know...let's see. We work..where again? 3 Spoons? ohh...duh. Think, woman! 

The other coworker: hey, we're kinda busy. one of us is working the register, one is cutting fruit to replenish our rapidly diminishing supply of strawberries...i know! i should make waffle cone triangles, and forsake my responsibility to keep the toppings clean, yeah! because those are in high demand and are definitely NOT the distinct responsibility of the morning shift. (last sentence, sarcastic to me, a legitimate thought to him)

Maybe I was just tired and that made me frustrated. Maybe I just know that every time that one guy closes things get half-way done. Maybe I just know that the girl is like too many girls I knew at Liberty. Maybe tonight was a reminder of just how insanely broken I am.

Especially because I come home to a very excited puppy when I am not excited in the least. And she wants to play while I want to cry and curl up and either write-to-express-it or read-to-escape-it. And she greatly dislikes her crate, so she spends 20 minutes barking and whining at 2am before she tires herself out/realizes I'm not going to take her out, all while my roommate yells at her about 10 minutes into the barking session. This does the opposite of quiet the dog down; it gives her hope that someone is coming. It's called self-soothing for a reason. 

You can stop reading if you want, but I'm not going to stop writing just yet. Another couple paragraphs should do it, though. Persevere!

I think the real source of my inner-tantrum is my impatience with God. I feel like I've been waiting for a long time for something, anything to happen in my life. I've sought out opportunities. I've taken what opportunities have come my way. I have failed in righteousness and returned to grace. And still...I'm here, in the same place. 

Two part-time jobs. One of which is mind-numbing, and irksome. Tiny house which doesn't even feel like mine enough for real home-ness. Dog that I love but is being quite the brat lately. Emotions leaving me anxious and disappointed, again and again, despite my highest of hopes. Hopes that I really thought were based on reality this time. Not seeing my dearest of friends often enough to encourage the sharing of all such things. 

I want so badly to live a real life. This is not the life I want. I want to work with middle school students. I want to help men become men and women become women. I want to have enough room to dance. And yes, to be quite honest, I want the freedom to love a man and to be loved in return; I want to be someone's helper, someone's Eve. I want Jesus to tell me where to go, what to do next and now. 

But I'm still....freakin'....waiting....

It's supposed to be sunny tomorrow. That's good.


5 kilometers is 3.1 miles

I'm running a 5k on the very last day of March in Atlanta.
I've never run a 5k before. 
Here are 5 things that begin with k or k-like-sounds describing my training:

1. (k)ontinuous bad weather: Supposed to run today? Yeah? Well, here's some rain! and Wind! woo!
2. (k)ompetition: with the 295734 runners in the Clemson/Central area. I definitely live in a college town.
3. (k)omposure: because I run with my pup, who is only mostly leash-trained and afraid of real trains.
4. (k)ravings: I forgot about this part of exercising. Who knew burning calories made you hungry?
5. (k)ounting: Miles, minutes, muscles, and other (k)onvenient things that start with "m" I'm sure.

None of those words actually began with "K". 
January is a bad time to begin training if you do not have a gym membership and do not wish to invest in one. Noted.

On the bright side, I've discovered that I don't hate running as much as I used to. Running outside helps that. Also, running without music actually is better for me. It leaves me free to think instead of focusing on the music. I think it's because I normally listen to music while doing something else, so when I run with music my mind gets bored because I'm not writing or reading or painting or driving or anything-but-just-running.

On another and brighter side, I've realized that I'm running this 5k to have fun and train my body to perform better. I can't believe I'm about to say this, because it's never happened before, but I am satisfied with how I look. I am content and I know God has made me beautiful. 
I have come to love my particular "imperfections" and actually revel in them because I know that if a man ever calls me beautiful it'll be (mostly) aimed at those things that will not droop with age but rather grow stronger and more refined. 


A List. Of things I haven't been doing.

 1. Taking a Sabbath.
 2. Tithing.
 3. Caring about what I read in the Bible if the Spirit doesn't reveal something to me in the particular words of the day.
 4. Being still.
 5. Being patient.
 6. Reading books consistently. 
 7. Being open in spite of my fear.

The first two are related. I'm highly anxious about my finances, even when I know they are fine. I've not been very generous, and even when I've been scheduled for an entire day off, I tend to pick up an extra shift to make some more money. What days I have left completely off I have spent traveling and with friends/family. 

That's it. That's all I have to say. So long!


Called Out.

Yesterday I was straight up called out on the lack of effort I put into this. Thanks, Andrew Sims. 

But really, thanks.

I want to write, and let everyone know how I am, who I am, whatever. But I often find myself starting a post then not publishing it because I don't think anyone will care enough to read it because it's not earth-shatteringly important, essential to the understanding of life, pertinent to the increase of wisdom, nor does it cause instant smiles at well-timed-and-focused photography. 

It's just me. Living my currently just-so life. Which even I find boring. And if my life seems boring, I MUST be boring, right?

Maybe I am, but just right now. Only right now. 

I say that because this has been a very silent few weeks. I went through a rough spot about a month ago, but things have eased up a bit mentally. Since then, and truthfully during then, I have not heard anything distinct from the Spirit. He's revealed wisdom to me and given me what seems like peace but hasn't really told me anything. The peace scares me, because it doesn't fit with my previous convictions and that gives me pause as to whether I've forced the peace or it's been given. I hope that makes sense, because I can't be very specific on the worldwideweb. And peace is usually, well, peaceful. Yet here I am fretting about having peace and wondering just how much control of things God allows us.

So I feel boring because God hasn't said anything to me in a while.
I feel boring because I have a part-time job at a frozen yogurt shop in a college town despite having graduated with a 3.97 GPA and Summa Cum Laude with a B.S. in Counseling and Clinical Research Psychology almost 2 years ago, with another part-time job at an after-school program at which I serve as monitor/math guru. 
I feel boring because I see my friends so rarely, and I actually have fun with the people with whom I work at said shop.
I feel boring because I'm not in school, and not trying to be in school again, like most others.
I feel boring because I have no direction for my life. I'm simply doing what I know to do.
I feel boring because the few dreams I have for my life are exceedingly simple and seem very far-off due to lack of resources/connections/outlets. Ask me about it, I'll tell you. Just not here.
I feel boring because I'm waiting on something to happen, someone to follow, or...something. 

I guess it all comes down to me feeling a little lost, a little alone in my situation, a little desperate for joy, and a little like someone who had to grow up before most of her friends without the particular relational perks that some of her other grown-up friends have. 

Well, yeah. I'm fantastic at being uplifting, I know, you don't have to tell me. 

I suppose contentment and productive use of waiting-time are my goals.