It's still funny to me that I can have days where I really think I love Jeff more than I did the day before. When I stop and think about it, it's not really "more," I'm just feeling it all over again, or deeper or somewhere, somehow different.
It's true too, that when you love someone, you learn about yourself, even to love yourself differently.
But this last weekend, I fell in love with US. Well, probably not fell, because I'm pretty sure I was already there, but again, just that awareness. I just realized how great it is to get up on a Saturday and do whatever we want. And that we want, usually, to do the same stuff. And it's just us, in our own world. I like who we are together.
I thought that it will be different when we have kids but then I got excited because they too will be an extension of US. They'll be involved in the things we like to do and be there when we wake up on Saturday morning and it will just be more of US, not less.
Monday, June 30, 2008
Friday, June 27, 2008
I'm Hungry
Two nights ago, we watched a concert of Blue Man Group we have on DVD. It was an audio visual feast. I started to say it was a delight, because it made me very happy, but it was something more than that. The depth and richness of their art took me to a place inside myself. I felt in touch with and good about myself. There are more important things in life than how you look and going to work.
It made me hungry... like the morning after a good meal when you're body has been able to use what you ate to rebuild, refuel, and nourish itself. I always wake up hungry the next day... but hungry for fruit and good bread, not junk food. That's how this felt. I want, need, crave more!
My mind is hungry for thought, discussion, understanding. I search the internet (mostly the newspaper site) and it's... well, junk food. My job today feels like I do more and more of the easy meaningless stuff (okay, okay, it's important for business but you know what I mean) and less and less of anything that requires me and my skill. By the time I get home, I'm tired and worn out and even though I'm desparate for more stimulation, I can barely get myself to do what else needs to be done- dishes, the dog, dinner...
At my work, they have made a new rule that whoever it is that would have any ability to do this anyway, can't turn the air conditioner past a certain point in order to conserve energy. They also are shutting off certain lights. In the hall, for example, you know how big buildings have the long flourescent lights every few feet? Now for every three of them, only one is on. Good idea as I've recently become very bothered by how much we waste in society. But people have been complaining all week about how hot it is in here. I've been okay until today and it got to almost nauseating I've been so warm. And the lack of light, it's not bad above our desks, but it does cast quite a serene, numbing effect on the place.
I'm beginning to feel like a drone. This is not what I went to college for. This is not what I dreamed and planned for.
Well, here's my formal announcement. Jeff got fired last week. I think I must be more conerned and sad about it than I realize because I keep avoiding telling anyone... like even him and me! haha. But we both are surprisingly calm and not worried about it. In fact, I have felt freed to think about what comes next and what do we really want to do? (That is until I had to go and get the paper work so we can get on my work's health insurance, then I felt painfully stuck).
We have a fantasy of running away to Alaska and living as hermits. Sometimes I want something so badly I seriously ache. I want out of the city and traffic etc. I want a different life than I feel like I can find here. The other night though, I think I dreamed we decided to stay here because neither of us wanted to be away from our moms.
I guess all I'm saying is the same thing I said in my last post. I want music. I want purpose. I want beauty and brains and art and science and good healthy food and peace of mind and family and flowers and sunshine and rainy days and to play in the snow... just me, talking to myself again...
It made me hungry... like the morning after a good meal when you're body has been able to use what you ate to rebuild, refuel, and nourish itself. I always wake up hungry the next day... but hungry for fruit and good bread, not junk food. That's how this felt. I want, need, crave more!
My mind is hungry for thought, discussion, understanding. I search the internet (mostly the newspaper site) and it's... well, junk food. My job today feels like I do more and more of the easy meaningless stuff (okay, okay, it's important for business but you know what I mean) and less and less of anything that requires me and my skill. By the time I get home, I'm tired and worn out and even though I'm desparate for more stimulation, I can barely get myself to do what else needs to be done- dishes, the dog, dinner...
At my work, they have made a new rule that whoever it is that would have any ability to do this anyway, can't turn the air conditioner past a certain point in order to conserve energy. They also are shutting off certain lights. In the hall, for example, you know how big buildings have the long flourescent lights every few feet? Now for every three of them, only one is on. Good idea as I've recently become very bothered by how much we waste in society. But people have been complaining all week about how hot it is in here. I've been okay until today and it got to almost nauseating I've been so warm. And the lack of light, it's not bad above our desks, but it does cast quite a serene, numbing effect on the place.
I'm beginning to feel like a drone. This is not what I went to college for. This is not what I dreamed and planned for.
Well, here's my formal announcement. Jeff got fired last week. I think I must be more conerned and sad about it than I realize because I keep avoiding telling anyone... like even him and me! haha. But we both are surprisingly calm and not worried about it. In fact, I have felt freed to think about what comes next and what do we really want to do? (That is until I had to go and get the paper work so we can get on my work's health insurance, then I felt painfully stuck).
We have a fantasy of running away to Alaska and living as hermits. Sometimes I want something so badly I seriously ache. I want out of the city and traffic etc. I want a different life than I feel like I can find here. The other night though, I think I dreamed we decided to stay here because neither of us wanted to be away from our moms.
I guess all I'm saying is the same thing I said in my last post. I want music. I want purpose. I want beauty and brains and art and science and good healthy food and peace of mind and family and flowers and sunshine and rainy days and to play in the snow... just me, talking to myself again...
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Time won't give me time
As a child, the passing of time is marked by moments. Each birthday is celebrated and the start of every school year brings new friends, new teachers, new clothes, a whole new grade. The older we get, the faster time goes and, it seems, without much pomp and circumstance.
My memories of college seem so fresh. I still think about people I knew, things I studied, tests I took. Then I realize it has now been SEVEN years since I graduated! I can't even believe it. The years have all blurred together and I don't know when anything happened.
It's been over two years since I started dating Jeff. At that time, my job at the college was suddenly disappearing. Management at that school changed at least once a year and the most recent brought with it a president that, before it seemed anyone had even met him, decided it was more cost effective (the ills of working at a "for profit" school) to wipe out a lot of the general ed courses. Students were still required to take them, he just thought they could get them done with online classes etc. (ie. the students pay for the classes but the college doesn't have to pay instructors).
With my job disappearing and my 30th birthday coming in mere months, I felt a change was coming. I was starting to feel, in a positive way, that I had nothing to hold onto and I could go and/or do anything I wanted. Of course I again considered a teaching license so I could get a "real" teaching job at a high school or junior high. But, as always, I also wondered what else was out there. I even started looking at going to school for things other than teaching- maybe I should become an engineer or architect and use my math for something. Dad was still living in Arkansas and I wondered of the possibilities of moving there and having some sort of life adventure.
But in came Jeffrey and I suddenly had someone very wonderful to hold onto.
And I needed money for rent and bills etc. I had to get a "job" even if my intent was not to stay with it forever. So I did. I actually had a couple jobs before settling at the newspaper. The job here was interesting enough and paid enough when I started and in just over a year and a half, I've had raises, promotions, health insurance and 401k and things seem to be going along just fine. In a way, I feel like my job became secondary to my life, which was a nice feeling. I was caught up in getting married, starting a home and family (even if it only consists of me, him and the dog) and so job wise, everything is fine.
On the other hand, sometimes, especially lately, I feel like wait! Time is flying by. I'll have have been here two years at the end of September and I could have really done something with that time (forgetting that I DID do something- marriage is a big deal isn't it?). The other day I was feeling kind of down and as I stood in the shower with the rythm and warmth of the water running over me, I tried to think of good things. I tried to focus on what I've accomplished and what I want to be doing.
My thoughts went back to college, in particular to some physics classes/tests I had to take. There were two classes making a full year of one course. They were some of the hardest classes anyone majoring in any of the "hard" sciences had to take. We'd spend hours daily studying and working and trying to just pass the tests. Every other Friday, our hour long class was scheduled for an hour and half in a different room for our exams. We were assigned seats and had a half dozen or so graduate students watching over us to prevent cheating. The front page of the test had about 10 "easy" questions that you had to get absolutely right or you got no credit at all. On each of the three remaining pages was one question per page. The one question may have multiple parts, but it took a whole page to write your answer (and when I say write, I don't mean like write an essay, I mean write out mathematical solutions and physics principles to support it). Each question was worth 20-25 points and you would get partial credit for showing different parts of the solution. It was rare for anyone I knew to ever get ALL the credit for one question. It was hard stuff and yet the friends I made in those classes, and even thinking back to the studying, were some of the best people and times in my life. I earned a lot of self fulfillment just surviving those courses.
And that's my point. I sit here at the office day after day, sometimes feeling like I'm doing a good job but a lot of time feeling like I still don't know stuff. And it's not that I'm not smart, it's that I haven't learned it. And there's not really time or possibility to really study and learn. I am a smart person. I'm always afraid of admitting that because I know people that are so much wiser than I am. But, that I could even think about the stuff I did in college means that I can think. So what am I doing with myself?
Sometimes I think about teaching and I miss it. I've always wanted to teach and I'm good at it and I love it. Other times I think about it and feel like I only go back to it because it's all I know how to think about. I don't know what else is out there and I don't know if I'd have the nerve to go for it if I did.
I've wanted more than anything to become a mother. I believe in the old fashioned woman who makes a home and raises the children and feeds the husband. I want that life more than anything. Hopefully, it will happen for us sometime soon.
I think it's time for me to do something. I don't even know what's out there though. I don't know how to make it all come together.
My memories of college seem so fresh. I still think about people I knew, things I studied, tests I took. Then I realize it has now been SEVEN years since I graduated! I can't even believe it. The years have all blurred together and I don't know when anything happened.
It's been over two years since I started dating Jeff. At that time, my job at the college was suddenly disappearing. Management at that school changed at least once a year and the most recent brought with it a president that, before it seemed anyone had even met him, decided it was more cost effective (the ills of working at a "for profit" school) to wipe out a lot of the general ed courses. Students were still required to take them, he just thought they could get them done with online classes etc. (ie. the students pay for the classes but the college doesn't have to pay instructors).
With my job disappearing and my 30th birthday coming in mere months, I felt a change was coming. I was starting to feel, in a positive way, that I had nothing to hold onto and I could go and/or do anything I wanted. Of course I again considered a teaching license so I could get a "real" teaching job at a high school or junior high. But, as always, I also wondered what else was out there. I even started looking at going to school for things other than teaching- maybe I should become an engineer or architect and use my math for something. Dad was still living in Arkansas and I wondered of the possibilities of moving there and having some sort of life adventure.
But in came Jeffrey and I suddenly had someone very wonderful to hold onto.
And I needed money for rent and bills etc. I had to get a "job" even if my intent was not to stay with it forever. So I did. I actually had a couple jobs before settling at the newspaper. The job here was interesting enough and paid enough when I started and in just over a year and a half, I've had raises, promotions, health insurance and 401k and things seem to be going along just fine. In a way, I feel like my job became secondary to my life, which was a nice feeling. I was caught up in getting married, starting a home and family (even if it only consists of me, him and the dog) and so job wise, everything is fine.
On the other hand, sometimes, especially lately, I feel like wait! Time is flying by. I'll have have been here two years at the end of September and I could have really done something with that time (forgetting that I DID do something- marriage is a big deal isn't it?). The other day I was feeling kind of down and as I stood in the shower with the rythm and warmth of the water running over me, I tried to think of good things. I tried to focus on what I've accomplished and what I want to be doing.
My thoughts went back to college, in particular to some physics classes/tests I had to take. There were two classes making a full year of one course. They were some of the hardest classes anyone majoring in any of the "hard" sciences had to take. We'd spend hours daily studying and working and trying to just pass the tests. Every other Friday, our hour long class was scheduled for an hour and half in a different room for our exams. We were assigned seats and had a half dozen or so graduate students watching over us to prevent cheating. The front page of the test had about 10 "easy" questions that you had to get absolutely right or you got no credit at all. On each of the three remaining pages was one question per page. The one question may have multiple parts, but it took a whole page to write your answer (and when I say write, I don't mean like write an essay, I mean write out mathematical solutions and physics principles to support it). Each question was worth 20-25 points and you would get partial credit for showing different parts of the solution. It was rare for anyone I knew to ever get ALL the credit for one question. It was hard stuff and yet the friends I made in those classes, and even thinking back to the studying, were some of the best people and times in my life. I earned a lot of self fulfillment just surviving those courses.
And that's my point. I sit here at the office day after day, sometimes feeling like I'm doing a good job but a lot of time feeling like I still don't know stuff. And it's not that I'm not smart, it's that I haven't learned it. And there's not really time or possibility to really study and learn. I am a smart person. I'm always afraid of admitting that because I know people that are so much wiser than I am. But, that I could even think about the stuff I did in college means that I can think. So what am I doing with myself?
Sometimes I think about teaching and I miss it. I've always wanted to teach and I'm good at it and I love it. Other times I think about it and feel like I only go back to it because it's all I know how to think about. I don't know what else is out there and I don't know if I'd have the nerve to go for it if I did.
I've wanted more than anything to become a mother. I believe in the old fashioned woman who makes a home and raises the children and feeds the husband. I want that life more than anything. Hopefully, it will happen for us sometime soon.
I think it's time for me to do something. I don't even know what's out there though. I don't know how to make it all come together.
Monday, June 23, 2008
Someone please teach me something
I'm having a hard time trying to say what I'm thinking...
Basically, I've read a few things in the paper (admittedly I read it online and anyone can make comments so I don't know if what I'm remembering has any validity or not but that's kind of why I'm bringing it up) about the church giving the priesthood to "all worthy males." One thought is that Joseph Smith gave the priesthood to at least one black man and was against slavery and very open to other races/cultures etc. Someone said it wasn't until Brigham Young became the president that this restriction to blacks became enforced. In a way, it made sense to me that it would be more of a tradition of culture/society/an individual than an actually established rule. I know I'm not supposed to say anything "against" a prophet, but I've heard things about Brigham Young to make me think he was pretty strict... maybe even more because of his own personality and judgement than actually acting as the prophet?
Today I read that the church is sending a letter to be read in the wards in California urging members to actively oppose a new court ruling giving gays the right to marry. No wait, I think it's to promote an ammendment to the state constitution to define marriage as between one man and one woman. (I apologize for my lack of knowledge. Most of what I know is bits and pieces and I may not even have the facts right).
In a way it makes sense to me. I think that the core belief of our church is that of eternal families and everything we teach, believe, etc. supports that main idea. Whatever makes a person gay, nature dictates that to have children etc. it takes a man and a woman. It's the way it's set up, even if there are variations, mistakes, whatever. There's always the argument that not even all straight couples are able to have children and we don't deny them the right to be married. But I'll trust you know what I mean.
But in a way, it kind of seems contrary for the church to actually tell people what to believe. I mean, I'm glad to be in a church that has clear cut standards and even expectations, but I think part of what people find fault with is they think we're all just told what to do and how to think and don't make any of our own decisions.
I just deleted about the same amount as I've written above because I really am not coming to any point. Perhaps I'll leave this as a "to be continued..." post. Do any of you know any facts? What do you think? About these topics specifically? More generally about religion and social influence? About our church and it's influence? Perhaps my question is, coming from a religion of very definite beliefs and a family of strong convictions, how do I know what's true? and what I really think? and is it okay to form my own opinions, even when it seems a bit in oposition to said church or family? Well, that's kinda my same old same old question isn't it? So, I ask that, but also want to know what anyone knows or thinks about these topics. And maybe just the general right and wrong of the universe... :)
Basically, I've read a few things in the paper (admittedly I read it online and anyone can make comments so I don't know if what I'm remembering has any validity or not but that's kind of why I'm bringing it up) about the church giving the priesthood to "all worthy males." One thought is that Joseph Smith gave the priesthood to at least one black man and was against slavery and very open to other races/cultures etc. Someone said it wasn't until Brigham Young became the president that this restriction to blacks became enforced. In a way, it made sense to me that it would be more of a tradition of culture/society/an individual than an actually established rule. I know I'm not supposed to say anything "against" a prophet, but I've heard things about Brigham Young to make me think he was pretty strict... maybe even more because of his own personality and judgement than actually acting as the prophet?
Today I read that the church is sending a letter to be read in the wards in California urging members to actively oppose a new court ruling giving gays the right to marry. No wait, I think it's to promote an ammendment to the state constitution to define marriage as between one man and one woman. (I apologize for my lack of knowledge. Most of what I know is bits and pieces and I may not even have the facts right).
In a way it makes sense to me. I think that the core belief of our church is that of eternal families and everything we teach, believe, etc. supports that main idea. Whatever makes a person gay, nature dictates that to have children etc. it takes a man and a woman. It's the way it's set up, even if there are variations, mistakes, whatever. There's always the argument that not even all straight couples are able to have children and we don't deny them the right to be married. But I'll trust you know what I mean.
But in a way, it kind of seems contrary for the church to actually tell people what to believe. I mean, I'm glad to be in a church that has clear cut standards and even expectations, but I think part of what people find fault with is they think we're all just told what to do and how to think and don't make any of our own decisions.
I just deleted about the same amount as I've written above because I really am not coming to any point. Perhaps I'll leave this as a "to be continued..." post. Do any of you know any facts? What do you think? About these topics specifically? More generally about religion and social influence? About our church and it's influence? Perhaps my question is, coming from a religion of very definite beliefs and a family of strong convictions, how do I know what's true? and what I really think? and is it okay to form my own opinions, even when it seems a bit in oposition to said church or family? Well, that's kinda my same old same old question isn't it? So, I ask that, but also want to know what anyone knows or thinks about these topics. And maybe just the general right and wrong of the universe... :)
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Jiminny Cricket
Yesterday I was talking to my wonderful, amazing, awesome, talented sister about (well, sort of) guilt. I told her to look deep inside herself and try to see where those thoughts are. Then I asked if she really feels those things or is it just because she thinks she's supposed to.
This was a good realization for me to have. I think maybe I feel it because I think I'm supposed to. Isn't it what we're taught in Sunday school (or somewhere)?
I have a beautiful painting of a woman from the back. She is under some sort of blanket but is not dressed. I don't even think of it as nude, but I guess that's what you'd call it. When I bought this painting, I lived alone in my sunny studio apartment with vaulted ceilings. I was finally, at 25+ years old, discovering my self esteem, my femininity, my own thoughts and feelings. To me, this painting is of femininity, strength, beauty. I LOVE this painting.
However, when I got it, I was so embarrassed that anyone (mostly my dad, nephew, or home teacher) would see it. I was sure I'd have to explain all my innermost thoughts and feelings and what it represented for me to everyone else, which basically kills any of those thoughts and feelings. I acted embarrassed but, in this context, I don't think I really felt it. It's like I acted it out because I was "supposed to." I couldn't buy the painting and have it in my home unabashedly. Nudity, nakedness, even art and passion and emotion, are bad so you have to feel guilty.
It's a big thing for me to realize that I didn't really FEEL the embarrassment/guilt. And to realize that a lot of my behavior, talk, actions are based on that expectation.
In a way, guilt is a blessing. It lets you know when something is wrong. But if I can feel it even when I don't really think I'm doing anything wrong, how can I trust it? (As I type I think that more of a guide for me is understanding what's wrong with it or, more importantly, it feels not right, there's discomfort, and that is not the same as guilt).
This is all interesting and good for my thinking but I'm quite interested in where this all comes from. Not why we feel it, but why we act on it and accept it as such truth when really, it could be wrong? We live beliefs, we act out feelings, only to find out they're based on... what? nothing important anyway. And it leaves me feeling like where is my conscience? Do I even really know what it sounds like? I think I do because when it comes down to it, I've done right things for right reasons and for my own convictions, but other times? What is this drive? this... shame? that so controls me?
This was a good realization for me to have. I think maybe I feel it because I think I'm supposed to. Isn't it what we're taught in Sunday school (or somewhere)?
I have a beautiful painting of a woman from the back. She is under some sort of blanket but is not dressed. I don't even think of it as nude, but I guess that's what you'd call it. When I bought this painting, I lived alone in my sunny studio apartment with vaulted ceilings. I was finally, at 25+ years old, discovering my self esteem, my femininity, my own thoughts and feelings. To me, this painting is of femininity, strength, beauty. I LOVE this painting.
However, when I got it, I was so embarrassed that anyone (mostly my dad, nephew, or home teacher) would see it. I was sure I'd have to explain all my innermost thoughts and feelings and what it represented for me to everyone else, which basically kills any of those thoughts and feelings. I acted embarrassed but, in this context, I don't think I really felt it. It's like I acted it out because I was "supposed to." I couldn't buy the painting and have it in my home unabashedly. Nudity, nakedness, even art and passion and emotion, are bad so you have to feel guilty.
It's a big thing for me to realize that I didn't really FEEL the embarrassment/guilt. And to realize that a lot of my behavior, talk, actions are based on that expectation.
In a way, guilt is a blessing. It lets you know when something is wrong. But if I can feel it even when I don't really think I'm doing anything wrong, how can I trust it? (As I type I think that more of a guide for me is understanding what's wrong with it or, more importantly, it feels not right, there's discomfort, and that is not the same as guilt).
This is all interesting and good for my thinking but I'm quite interested in where this all comes from. Not why we feel it, but why we act on it and accept it as such truth when really, it could be wrong? We live beliefs, we act out feelings, only to find out they're based on... what? nothing important anyway. And it leaves me feeling like where is my conscience? Do I even really know what it sounds like? I think I do because when it comes down to it, I've done right things for right reasons and for my own convictions, but other times? What is this drive? this... shame? that so controls me?
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Grandma's Apron
When I was in 7th and 8th grades, I took some home-ec classes. In the cooking part of the class, we were required to bring an apron. One of our first "lessons" was needlepointing (kind of) a name tag to sew on the apron. My mom took me to my grandma's house and I inherited one of her aprons.
My grandma wore an apron all the time. It wasn't like the almost rectangular kind with the strap around your neck and tie in the back you see on t.v. shows etc. Grandma's had snaps up the front and you put it on like a sleeveless button up shirt. She always kept a pen and who knows what else in the nicely sized square pockets on the front. All her aprons were made of pretty, delicately flowered fabric that I always think of as wall paper patterned.
In junior high, I don't remember, nor do I honestly know if I even really looked at, what other people had. I just remember and I hate to admit it now that I was a bit embarrassed because my apron would be different. I feel bad saying that now. I would hate for my mom or grandma to know I felt that way. Even at the time I knew I didn't want them to know and I knew it was rather petty of me to feel it. So, I swallowed my adolescent pride and wore the apron.
Last night as I cleaned my kitchen in my old t-shirt that I wear as pajamas, I thought "I need an apron." And I remembered the feelings I had in junior high. I remembered very fondly the burgandy flowered apron I still have tucked away in a drawer. Even in junior high, I thought it was kind of neat to have something of my grandmother's. And last night, I wanted to wear that apron. In fact, I've about decided to go to the fabric store and buy some of that wonderful fabric I wouldn't know what else to do with and make me a handful of aprons! And someday, when I teach my daughter to cook, I'll tell her about my grandmother's aprons.
My grandma wore an apron all the time. It wasn't like the almost rectangular kind with the strap around your neck and tie in the back you see on t.v. shows etc. Grandma's had snaps up the front and you put it on like a sleeveless button up shirt. She always kept a pen and who knows what else in the nicely sized square pockets on the front. All her aprons were made of pretty, delicately flowered fabric that I always think of as wall paper patterned.
In junior high, I don't remember, nor do I honestly know if I even really looked at, what other people had. I just remember and I hate to admit it now that I was a bit embarrassed because my apron would be different. I feel bad saying that now. I would hate for my mom or grandma to know I felt that way. Even at the time I knew I didn't want them to know and I knew it was rather petty of me to feel it. So, I swallowed my adolescent pride and wore the apron.
Last night as I cleaned my kitchen in my old t-shirt that I wear as pajamas, I thought "I need an apron." And I remembered the feelings I had in junior high. I remembered very fondly the burgandy flowered apron I still have tucked away in a drawer. Even in junior high, I thought it was kind of neat to have something of my grandmother's. And last night, I wanted to wear that apron. In fact, I've about decided to go to the fabric store and buy some of that wonderful fabric I wouldn't know what else to do with and make me a handful of aprons! And someday, when I teach my daughter to cook, I'll tell her about my grandmother's aprons.
Monday, June 09, 2008
Monday pick me up
I guess my last couple posts have been... well, less than pleasant. Too bad (not like too bad for you, but like that's too bad for me because I was signing in for more complaining!). I'm just checking in now to whine and complain so now I'm thinking I should be more positive. I'm sure I was having some kind of good thoughts this morning! Oh well.... It's just been a Monday and I'm not really ready to start the week. It's almost over though.
So a woman at work I really like and talk to frequently and would call a friend returned a book to another coworker when I happened to be standing there. They were talking about it and I commented that it sounded neat, kind of to be polite, kind of because it did sound nice. The woman who owns the book then asked if I wanted to borrow it next. I said sure. I like reading and would like to have something new to think about.
The weird thing is, before I even started reading it, I had a really strong feeling that I didn't want to. I thought perhaps I was just being negative and started reading it anyway. I'd read only about a chapter and a half and it was really bothering me emotionally. I didn't think I wanted to continue. As you can probably guess, if you know me at all, I wondered how I would return the book and answer "how'd you like it?" if I didn't finish it. So, yesterday I kept reading.
The story is interesting enough that I want to see how it plays out. But really, it's not THAT well written. I can't tell you how many times the narrator says "I can't tell you how... sad, scary, beautiful, whatever... it was. Words just can't describe it." At first I thought it was because it was about a young girl. But then, even when it told us she was maturing and thinking more adult thoughts, it was the same. So that is kind of... well, annoying.
The book is a story, completely fictional, but based on our church's beliefs, mostly about dying and how that could comfort a family who had suffered a kidnapping/murder. I thought that would be interesting but I keep getting the feeling like "how do you know?" And "if you do know, shouldn't this be a personal thing?" I don't know. Maybe for some reason I'm just hard hearted. Maybe there are things in the story that effect my emotions even if I don't realize it or understand why. And I think that mostly I get the feeling that someone who thinks they know is trying to put a band-aid on a mortal wound of someone who really knows what it feels like. Ba-humbug me eh?
I may keep reading it just to see how it ends.
The real question though is, how do I politely return it? Today I thought I could just say thanks so much for sharing, it was very interesting etc. If pressed, or even if not, I could just say "you know, it was too emotional and I couldn't read it." That would be alright. But, being me, I'd probably feel too rude or stupid to say it so I'd have to pretend I finished it and oh, wasn't it so nice? Anyway...
Friday the 13th is Jeffy's birthday. I'm taking the day off and we're going out. I also hope to get my car inspected, even though I don't know how we'll pay for it, and do some other errand type things. I feel like I had a day off recently (I think I did) but feel like I really need it again. Perhaps I'm getting spoiled. I really am trying to enjoy little things like this more though and trying to think happy and positively and productively about where life is going. I'm going to the grocery store on my way home and I'm trying to think of it as fun or playing house or something. I get to be the one to feed us and take care of us and last time I was at the store they had some pretty turquoise plastic glasses for $1. I might pick up one or two. And buy some salad makings! Mmm.... salad. Maybe some pink lemonade to acknowledge the season or something.
So a woman at work I really like and talk to frequently and would call a friend returned a book to another coworker when I happened to be standing there. They were talking about it and I commented that it sounded neat, kind of to be polite, kind of because it did sound nice. The woman who owns the book then asked if I wanted to borrow it next. I said sure. I like reading and would like to have something new to think about.
The weird thing is, before I even started reading it, I had a really strong feeling that I didn't want to. I thought perhaps I was just being negative and started reading it anyway. I'd read only about a chapter and a half and it was really bothering me emotionally. I didn't think I wanted to continue. As you can probably guess, if you know me at all, I wondered how I would return the book and answer "how'd you like it?" if I didn't finish it. So, yesterday I kept reading.
The story is interesting enough that I want to see how it plays out. But really, it's not THAT well written. I can't tell you how many times the narrator says "I can't tell you how... sad, scary, beautiful, whatever... it was. Words just can't describe it." At first I thought it was because it was about a young girl. But then, even when it told us she was maturing and thinking more adult thoughts, it was the same. So that is kind of... well, annoying.
The book is a story, completely fictional, but based on our church's beliefs, mostly about dying and how that could comfort a family who had suffered a kidnapping/murder. I thought that would be interesting but I keep getting the feeling like "how do you know?" And "if you do know, shouldn't this be a personal thing?" I don't know. Maybe for some reason I'm just hard hearted. Maybe there are things in the story that effect my emotions even if I don't realize it or understand why. And I think that mostly I get the feeling that someone who thinks they know is trying to put a band-aid on a mortal wound of someone who really knows what it feels like. Ba-humbug me eh?
I may keep reading it just to see how it ends.
The real question though is, how do I politely return it? Today I thought I could just say thanks so much for sharing, it was very interesting etc. If pressed, or even if not, I could just say "you know, it was too emotional and I couldn't read it." That would be alright. But, being me, I'd probably feel too rude or stupid to say it so I'd have to pretend I finished it and oh, wasn't it so nice? Anyway...
Friday the 13th is Jeffy's birthday. I'm taking the day off and we're going out. I also hope to get my car inspected, even though I don't know how we'll pay for it, and do some other errand type things. I feel like I had a day off recently (I think I did) but feel like I really need it again. Perhaps I'm getting spoiled. I really am trying to enjoy little things like this more though and trying to think happy and positively and productively about where life is going. I'm going to the grocery store on my way home and I'm trying to think of it as fun or playing house or something. I get to be the one to feed us and take care of us and last time I was at the store they had some pretty turquoise plastic glasses for $1. I might pick up one or two. And buy some salad makings! Mmm.... salad. Maybe some pink lemonade to acknowledge the season or something.
Friday, June 06, 2008
TMI (Too Much Information)?
There was a time in my life when I thought having the love of your life within hearing distance of you throwing up (or any other loud, smelly, yucky feeling bodily functions) would be the worst thing in the world. But alas, it has happened to me and I survived it. Surprisingly, I just wanted to hurry and clean myself up so that I could go to him and be held and comforted. Now THAT's love :)
Not to gross anyone out with unnecessary details but by Wednesday night I was pretty darn sick. It had started out as girl stuff and I thought I'd just had a rough day at work. One of those days when the little dumb things stress you out more than when big problems come up. I was able to sleep that night by just getting in a comfortable fetal position and not moving the whole night. When I woke up Thursday, I thought I was feeling much better. I took the dog out and got in the shower and by then my heart was racing and I felt miserable. At certain times, I thought the shower was helping, but when I got out, I'd barely dried off before throwing up from the very bottom of my toes. It was like the kind that you wonder if you'll stop breathing or stop barfing first. You catch your breath and then go again. YUCK!!!! Shortly after, Jeff got home from work and I just sat with him for a long time.
So, my real point in writing this is to analyze myself and my... we'll just call it "work ethic." I was sick enough yesterday that I would have called in sick if it wasn't for the fact that my supervisor, the one I'm told is the only other person to really know my job, is out of town for a funeral. Not only would there be no one to do my job, leaving other people without work because what I do gives them their work, but I am also supposed to do a couple jobs to cover my supervisor. I really felt I had no choice but to just get to work and get things done. I told myself it only had to be minimal and then I'd ask to go home early. And that's what happened.
As you know, I often drive Jeff to work at night. When I asked him Wednesday to drive himself and if he was okay with it, he said that was fine. What's not fine is that I'll be this sick and still go to work. I was too tired and yucky to try to explain why I felt I HAD to be here. I could tell Thursday morning that he was... I don't know. Not mad at me, but kinda... disappointed. Of course I feel like that's selfish. I'm sick and suffering and he's disappointed that I'm not making it a holiday? Actually, from conversations, I think he just feels like I"m too hard on myself, make the job more important than anything else, and maybe even feels bad that I don't let him take care of me. There sure is a lot for me to learn here.
And here's the interesting part. When I asked my boss if I could go home early, she was so nice. She really is one of the nicest people I've ever met. She was genuinely concerned. I told her I'd had a rough morning but thought I better just get there. She gave me her cell phone number and insisted I call her today (Friday) if I needed to because she had the day off but with my supervisor being gone she would come in. When I said I didn't think I could miss Friday, it's a big day for us and especially with the other girl being gone, she so sincerely and simply said "but if you're sick, you're sick."
Honestly, I had no idea that anyone would think that way. I feel like I miss too much. I laid there for like an hour before coming to work Thursday trying to figure out if there was ANY way I could not be here. It just didn't make any sense in my head that I could. Sure, if I died in a car accident on my way here, they'd figure something out. But the fact that I could get up and walk around made it certainly feasible for me to come to work. Not that I would expect that of anyone else. Because my boss is so nice that way, I don't want to slack off at all and I think that's a good thing. Maybe it makes her more effective as a boss. But really, I could have stayed home?!?!?! I didn't even dare tell Jeff because he'd just say I told you so.
Perhaps, if I didn't feel like I miss frequently for dumb reasons (like when my car wouldn't start and I had no way to get here), I'd be more likely to call in. Maybe my supervisor being gone etc, was a good reason to just tough it out. But the thing is, and what I think bothers Jeff, is that there's always something like that. It's hard for me. Being like this is what got me through school and the hard things I had to do. In a way, I think it's kept me safe- from emotions? or getting in trouble- like I'm not the rebellious one, I'm the good one? I don't really know. I do believe it's kept me as Dad's "favorite." I'm just like him. I've earned his approval/love. He's proud of me. But what if I don't want to be like this? What if people don't think this way? Someone out there help me fix how I think! (And, for the record, that's all Jeff is trying to do).
Not to gross anyone out with unnecessary details but by Wednesday night I was pretty darn sick. It had started out as girl stuff and I thought I'd just had a rough day at work. One of those days when the little dumb things stress you out more than when big problems come up. I was able to sleep that night by just getting in a comfortable fetal position and not moving the whole night. When I woke up Thursday, I thought I was feeling much better. I took the dog out and got in the shower and by then my heart was racing and I felt miserable. At certain times, I thought the shower was helping, but when I got out, I'd barely dried off before throwing up from the very bottom of my toes. It was like the kind that you wonder if you'll stop breathing or stop barfing first. You catch your breath and then go again. YUCK!!!! Shortly after, Jeff got home from work and I just sat with him for a long time.
So, my real point in writing this is to analyze myself and my... we'll just call it "work ethic." I was sick enough yesterday that I would have called in sick if it wasn't for the fact that my supervisor, the one I'm told is the only other person to really know my job, is out of town for a funeral. Not only would there be no one to do my job, leaving other people without work because what I do gives them their work, but I am also supposed to do a couple jobs to cover my supervisor. I really felt I had no choice but to just get to work and get things done. I told myself it only had to be minimal and then I'd ask to go home early. And that's what happened.
As you know, I often drive Jeff to work at night. When I asked him Wednesday to drive himself and if he was okay with it, he said that was fine. What's not fine is that I'll be this sick and still go to work. I was too tired and yucky to try to explain why I felt I HAD to be here. I could tell Thursday morning that he was... I don't know. Not mad at me, but kinda... disappointed. Of course I feel like that's selfish. I'm sick and suffering and he's disappointed that I'm not making it a holiday? Actually, from conversations, I think he just feels like I"m too hard on myself, make the job more important than anything else, and maybe even feels bad that I don't let him take care of me. There sure is a lot for me to learn here.
And here's the interesting part. When I asked my boss if I could go home early, she was so nice. She really is one of the nicest people I've ever met. She was genuinely concerned. I told her I'd had a rough morning but thought I better just get there. She gave me her cell phone number and insisted I call her today (Friday) if I needed to because she had the day off but with my supervisor being gone she would come in. When I said I didn't think I could miss Friday, it's a big day for us and especially with the other girl being gone, she so sincerely and simply said "but if you're sick, you're sick."
Honestly, I had no idea that anyone would think that way. I feel like I miss too much. I laid there for like an hour before coming to work Thursday trying to figure out if there was ANY way I could not be here. It just didn't make any sense in my head that I could. Sure, if I died in a car accident on my way here, they'd figure something out. But the fact that I could get up and walk around made it certainly feasible for me to come to work. Not that I would expect that of anyone else. Because my boss is so nice that way, I don't want to slack off at all and I think that's a good thing. Maybe it makes her more effective as a boss. But really, I could have stayed home?!?!?! I didn't even dare tell Jeff because he'd just say I told you so.
Perhaps, if I didn't feel like I miss frequently for dumb reasons (like when my car wouldn't start and I had no way to get here), I'd be more likely to call in. Maybe my supervisor being gone etc, was a good reason to just tough it out. But the thing is, and what I think bothers Jeff, is that there's always something like that. It's hard for me. Being like this is what got me through school and the hard things I had to do. In a way, I think it's kept me safe- from emotions? or getting in trouble- like I'm not the rebellious one, I'm the good one? I don't really know. I do believe it's kept me as Dad's "favorite." I'm just like him. I've earned his approval/love. He's proud of me. But what if I don't want to be like this? What if people don't think this way? Someone out there help me fix how I think! (And, for the record, that's all Jeff is trying to do).
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