so guys.
it's time to get real.
I spend 93% of my day with... myself.
(Tangentially, but still related, I really really like myself. I like my interests and find my particular skill set and world-view to be exciting. I like being by myself... I'm probably an introvert who has learned how to be socially extroverted because, well, that's what we do as human beings. Maybe?
I like that I like things. I like that I have interests and I am still learning. A lot.
I have maybe perfected a whole-wheat bread recipe. I have made at least five different types of soup. I have read plenty of books, and have worked on improving relationships with some family members. I have gone to parties (which I was previously in a serious funk about...), and actually enjoyed them. I have written and edited. I have helped new life come into this world. I am learning to serve better + more.
I have learned how to pray again, and really mean it.
I have learned to listen to myself more. Maybe it's because there's no one else around, but still. I think this will prove vital.
This wasn't intended to excuse the time I have spent, rather to illustrate that I like myself and find meaning in the time that we have together.)
(this video, while I understand it's about a breakup of a relationship with some dude, sort of feels like my breakup with school and normal-people-dom.)
I had a serious bout of feeling insecure/frustrated/disenchanted/boring/bored/annoyed/anti-social/guilty/terrible/nervous//depressed/barfy/sick/lame about my situation.
It was a really ugly emotional and self-centered coleslaw of yuck feelings.
That's the honest truth.
I have spent a lot of time telling myself to be happy and to invest myself into choosing happiness (which I DO, in fact, believe is a choice... maybe this is a by-product of my fancy-pants learn-to-think lib arts education?).
But that choice can be really really hard to make when you are reviving feedback that your life is boring. Which I did. Three times. IN. A. ROW.
Let's just say that there are some "friends" that I thought I had, who I will happily use Nebraska as an excuse to avoid. No, thank you, I don't need anyone to ask me if I have a job yet. I'm good at that question myself. I don't need anyone to encourage me to apply. I promise I've applied. And yes: I've even called back. I know full well that the squeaky wheel gets greased, but I don't speak Russian or have a teaching certificate from the state of Utah, and I am sorry that I have a degree that makes minimum wage income beyond my capacity... So I maintain my status.
I have told you, dear reader, several times on this very blog, about my convictions, and I am grateful for the support. I am holding to them.
I am recommitting to wonderment (baby plant life is pushing itself up through the soil. What's not to wonder about?!).
I am recommitting to hope (I was accepted to my top choice of graduate program. With funding. Duh.).
I may have to recommit every single day, and you may hear about it.
every. single. day.
it's time to get real.
I spend 93% of my day with... myself.
(Tangentially, but still related, I really really like myself. I like my interests and find my particular skill set and world-view to be exciting. I like being by myself... I'm probably an introvert who has learned how to be socially extroverted because, well, that's what we do as human beings. Maybe?
I like that I like things. I like that I have interests and I am still learning. A lot.
I have maybe perfected a whole-wheat bread recipe. I have made at least five different types of soup. I have read plenty of books, and have worked on improving relationships with some family members. I have gone to parties (which I was previously in a serious funk about...), and actually enjoyed them. I have written and edited. I have helped new life come into this world. I am learning to serve better + more.
I have learned how to pray again, and really mean it.
I have learned to listen to myself more. Maybe it's because there's no one else around, but still. I think this will prove vital.
This wasn't intended to excuse the time I have spent, rather to illustrate that I like myself and find meaning in the time that we have together.)
(this video, while I understand it's about a breakup of a relationship with some dude, sort of feels like my breakup with school and normal-people-dom.)
I had a serious bout of feeling insecure/frustrated/disenchanted/boring/bored/annoyed/anti-social/guilty/terrible/nervous//depressed/barfy/sick/lame about my situation.
It was a really ugly emotional and self-centered coleslaw of yuck feelings.
That's the honest truth.
I have spent a lot of time telling myself to be happy and to invest myself into choosing happiness (which I DO, in fact, believe is a choice... maybe this is a by-product of my fancy-pants learn-to-think lib arts education?).
But that choice can be really really hard to make when you are reviving feedback that your life is boring. Which I did. Three times. IN. A. ROW.
Let's just say that there are some "friends" that I thought I had, who I will happily use Nebraska as an excuse to avoid. No, thank you, I don't need anyone to ask me if I have a job yet. I'm good at that question myself. I don't need anyone to encourage me to apply. I promise I've applied. And yes: I've even called back. I know full well that the squeaky wheel gets greased, but I don't speak Russian or have a teaching certificate from the state of Utah, and I am sorry that I have a degree that makes minimum wage income beyond my capacity... So I maintain my status.
I have told you, dear reader, several times on this very blog, about my convictions, and I am grateful for the support. I am holding to them.
I am recommitting to wonderment (baby plant life is pushing itself up through the soil. What's not to wonder about?!).
I am recommitting to hope (I was accepted to my top choice of graduate program. With funding. Duh.).
I may have to recommit every single day, and you may hear about it.
every. single. day.
1 comment:
if this makes sense: sometimes i think happiness is found in understanding that we can't have it all the time.
do you think tugboats have a poop deck? or a puke deck?
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