not mine

I'm just going to start writing and see what happens. I don't have anything particular to write about, but I have time to waste, so I figured I might as well write.


Today has been a good day. A cloudy day, but only outside, which is good.


I finally got some errands done that I had been putting off. I pimped out the mini-van and took the dog for a spin around town. I went through the drive thru at Starbucks (where I work) and pretended to be a confused old lady who was allergic to milk, but not to creamer, so she needed cream in her drink, not milk, and she needed whoever was making it to wash their hands before they prepared it, especially if they had been handling milk... you know, since I'm highly allergic.

I also asked for a latte for dogs, but I didn't want to pay for it.


I got to the window and was greeted by one of my co-workers with the total, then she looked up and realized it was me..."I hate you."


I laughed. I give her credit though because she was real patient with me when she thought I was an old lady. "We even had Matt wash his hands" she said.


At least we listen to our customers.


I went for a walk with a friend and drove back home. Now I'm getting ready to go to work. The house is silent and I'm pretty tired. I'm debating if I have time for a quick nap before I go in.


I started to pray, but didn't get too far. It's seems like there's so much to pray about that I don't even know where to start. The question I get asked the most these days is "will you pray for me?" I want so badly to say yes and mean it, but I don't always do it.


One of my friends is having a hard time in the new town she moved to. Another is battling an eating disorder... a battle I am all too familiar with. One friend has family issues, and another is dealing with abuse from her past. I love all these girls. And my every intention is to pray for them, but I must be honest and say I don't always do it. I think about doing it, I say I need to do it, maybe to make me feel not so selfish about not doing it, but I don't do it.

.............................................

Time has passed... I opted for the nap. And now I am home from work.

I worked in a different store today. I hated it. Not only did I not know any of the customers, I didn't know anyone I was working with. The one kid I worked with literally complained about every single little thing. Literally. Everything. I'm not exaggerating. I wish I was... I would probably be in a better mood.

If someone wanted a venti frappucino split into two cups you would have thought they had asked him to milk the cow and make every thing from scratch. "If they want two cups why don't they just order two cups? Geez! Cheapos! If they're gonna be cheap then..." and the rest was under his breath. The funny thing is, he wasn't even making the drinks... I was... all he had to do was take the order.

Then someone wanted a tall vanilla bean frappucino which comes with whipped cream. He helped me at that point because I had quite a few drinks to make, so I thought we were getting somewhere with the better attitude thing until he blurts out "this is the most racist drink ever! look at it, it's all white... you can't get anymore racist than that... one tall racist frappucino! Hey, I'm just calling it what it is."

The funny thing is... the kid is white. Either he is that passionate about racism or that passionate about complaining. I'm pretty sure it's complaining because when I retold the story to a friend later on she asked if he also called the mocha frappucino with chocolate whip racist.

He didn't.

Then he complained about the floors, and about the timing of when people come in, and about closing, and about the way I pulled shots, and about and about and about and holy crap it wouldn't end!!!!!!!!!

The whole time I am there I am pretty quiet. I don't say much because I'm deep in thought and honestly thinking about a lot of stuff my therapist and I discussed the day before. It kinda starts to bother me that I'm being so quiet. "These people don't know me, they don't know that I'm funny" I think to myself... and just before I think I need to prove myself and act all happy I hear my therapist's voice... "learn to be OK out of the spotlight. If you don't feel up to it, sit back and enjoy it. Don't put pressure on yourself to perform."

And it hits me... I don't need to prove anything. I can allow myself to be off if I am feeling off. I don't have to make sure every single person views me the same way and thinks I'm funny or outgoing or whatever. Not everyone has to like me (cause not everyone does). I am honestly OK with that kid thinking that I am some quiet little girl who doesn't laugh at his failed racists jokes because what he thinks of me doesn't define who I am. I have good days, I have bad days. I have loud days, I have quiet days. I have laughing days, I have crying days. Not one of those days defines who I am because they all make up a little bit of me and what I am going through.

I don't know why I even cared what that kid thought of me in the first place... he's voting for Obama!

(I don't care who you are, that's funny right there)*

When it was finally time to leave, I got in my car and I cried the whole way home. I cried because of certain songs that came on the radio while I was working... I know it's total cheese ball, but it's such a girl thing. I cried because of certain people that came in and triggered memories of certain people in my own life. I cried because my heart is broken... still. I cried because I couldn't wait to get out of there and cry.

And just as I am about to start praying for myself, I decide to channel my emotions and start praying for other people. So I started with my friends. The girl in the new town, the girl with the eating disorder. The girl with the family issues, and the girl with the abuse. I just prayed for them and I cried for them. And I realized my passion had shifted to them. I became very passionate in praying for them and in wanting God to meet them where they are at. For a moment I lost sense of why I was crying to begin with and I just cried for them. And it felt good. And I felt better. For a moment.

The troublesome thing about spiritual highs is that they don't last long... but that is what makes them so beautiful when we do have them. If we had them all the time they wouldn't be very high.

I walked inside and it was silent.

I had cereal for dinner, which I knew wasn't enough (especially since I got put back on my meal plan) but I figured it was enough for how I felt. I was going to keep it at that, which would have been easy, and very helpful in the moment.

And now it is late, and I'm still up, and I just finished my dinner. I went back and got the rest of my exchanges in... against my will, but for God's. I figure it's better late than never.

And I have to remind myself time and time again... it's God's will that I want, not mine.

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*quote stolen from Larry the Cable Guy