Last night I asked someone to pray for me.
Monday is my scheduled day off at work. If I need to set up a doctors appointment or meet up with someone for anything other than coffee, I can always shoot for Monday knowing that I won't have to worry about work being an issue.
Every once in a while I take a weekend off, in which case I work Mondays to make up for it. My manager usually clears it with me first before scheduling. This week she didn't.
I'm leaving on Thursday to go home for a long weekend, which I am beyond excited about. I haven't seen my family since Christmas and I have yet to see the newest member of our family, my niece, Mailey, so I have been looking forward to this trip for a while. That said, I won't be working a lot this week. Understandably so, my manager scheduled me for Monday morning since I won't be getting a lot of hours the rest of the week. The problem lies in the fact that she didn't ask me first and for a few weeks now I have been seeing a therapist on Monday mornings at 10am. I was scheduled to work the opening shift: 5am-11am.
With our schedule being put up late this week and me assuming I wasn't working on Monday, I didn't bother to look at my schedule until Sunday night. This is where the wise people in my life step in and say I should have been better prepared and checked my schedule ahead of time. Yes, I know, thank you.
That said, I was really worried about how I was going to be able to pull off being at work and at my therapy appointment at the same time. I knew I had to at least try to see if my manager would let me go early because after been on hiatus for way longer than I should have been, I'm definitely anxious to get back in the routine of consistently seeing therapist. Not only that, but I had made a commitment to see her every Monday morning at 10am, and I really want to honor my commitments.
Knowing that it was partly her fault for not clearing it with me, I was still a bit nervous to ask to leave early because morning time at Starbucks is the crazy time, and I didn't want to let her down by skipping out.
Last night before I went to bed, I asked someone to pray for me. When asked what for, I said courage to talk to my manager, but I don't think that's actually what I wanted. I said courage because it sounds better than saying "pray that I can get off early," but that's exactly what I wanted... I wanted to get off early; and as if God were a genie in a bottle and prayer was the equivalent of rubbing said bottle, I wanted Him to make it happen.
The thing is, God doesn't work that way, and prayer doesn't work that way. In fact, I don't think prayer is something that we should regard as "working" or "not working." It is a way of living, a form of communication, an act of worship and an honest expression before a merciful God. It is how we live in relationship with our creator and seek to align our heart to His. The purpose of prayer is not always to ask for change, the purpose of prayer is to be changed; to stop asking the Lord for your hearts desire and start asking the Lord for a heart like His... a heart for His people.
His people meaning all people... gay, straight, black, white, yellow, red, Muslim, Jew, Christian, agnostic, atheist, republican, democrat, homeless, wealthy, suburban, urban, eastern, western, young, old, male, female... the list goes on and on and on.
There is an epidemic of hatred going on and I'm praying that God would let me get off work early today. I'm not saying that I can't express even the simplest of my desires or needs to God, I think He cares about the small stuff, but when looking at the big picture, what do I really spend most of my time praying about?
If I have to be honest, I pray mostly about what I want to happen... whether it be for me or for other people.
I pray for change, but I don't pray to be changed.
I think I'll do just that... and then go to bed because I'm way too tired to finish this.
Monday, April 19, 2010
Sunday, April 18, 2010
rambo
This movie is way too long... and I'm not even half way through it.
I really want to focus on writing, but I can't take my eyes off of the cattle about to commit unintentional suicide by running off a cliff.
I hate the bad guys... setting fire to everything, making the cattle go crazy, causing stampedes and killing off the drunks.
When I watch a movie with bad guys, which let's face it, even Disney movies have bad guys, I can literally feel the anger boiling up inside me.
..........
So after abandoning my computer for a while for what seemed like a 3 hour movie, I'm back and I'm focused.
I just finished watching the movie
Why I always think I'm going to be successful at multitasking is beyond me. Every time I make the decision to do so it seems like a good idea, and every time just like the time before, it proves to be quite the opposite.
I stopped writing when the cattle were about to stampede off a cliff, but left my computer on my lap the entire moving thinking that eventually I would start writing again. I could have been way more comfortable if I would have just put my computer down, sat back and focused on the movie. I ended up missing some subtitles because I kept looking down at my computer screen as if I was going to start typing.
Even though I actually accomplished nothing, for some reason it makes me feel accomplished if I at least pretend to be doing something. I would have felt lazy just sitting around watching a movie, but since I had my computer on my lap while sitting around watching a movie... I felt way more productive.
Why do we do that? Why do I do that? I so often try to accomplish more than one thing at a time, but instead of actually accomplishing anything at all, I end up spreading myself thin, which results in starting a few things but never actually finishing anything.
Fortunately, I finished the movie, but seeing as that’s not my point I can’t really label that as an accomplishment. I did manage to sit still for almost 3 hours without falling asleep and that is definitely no easy feat on my part.
I really want to try harder to try less. I try to do so much so often that I usually end up feeling burned out and more irritated than excited. When someone asks me to do something or take on a new project I find myself blurting out yes before I even have time to think about it. I end up taking on one more thing but hating it, even though it may be something I wanted to do, because I don’t have time for it and I can’t invest in it the way I want to. This often ends up with a less than satisfied result not only for me, but for the person to whom I think I just have to help along with every body else.
When my motive to help is to feel good about myself and point out what I have accomplished, I know my motive is wrong and regardless of how much I want to do it, its not something I should be taking part in. I know that I can’t do everything, so the only reason I try must be to make other people think I can.
I have to learn to get comfortable with saying “no,” or at least “I’ll think about it.” I have to learn to be OK with letting people down because regardless of how hard I try, I’m going to let someone down. Bill Cosby once said, “I don’t know they key to success, but I know the key to failure is to try to please everybody.” I’d have to agree with Mr. Cosby.
In this world, I realize I can’t please everybody, even if I wanted to. I honestly believe that I could not be a true follower of Christ if my goal were to please and be at peace with everyone. Christ does tell us to be at peace with one another and don’t get me wrong, I’m all about peace… make coffee, not war… but the peace that Christ talks of is not of this world. It’s not the kind of peace where see injustice take place before your very eyes and you keep silent so as not to cause any more trouble.
It’s a peace that passes understanding (Phil. 4:7). The mere fact that it passes or transcends understanding means that it can not be of this world. And if it is not of this world because it can not be understood, then it can not be something we give to each other, but something Christ gives to us.
I guess that’s why Christ tells us not to worry. It is the peace of God that guards me when I am faced with conflict, not my own ability to keep the peace.
Sometimes I have to say no… even to things that are good. I’m realizing more and more that life is so much about making choices, which is hard for someone who is so indecisive. It’s much easier for me to be like “God, what do you want me to do?” and wait for an answer, than it is to actually make a choice and take action. I’m not suggesting we shouldn’t ask God for guidance, absolutely we should, but sometimes (maybe even more often than not) I think He places something before us and not only lets us, but wants us to make a choice. It’s easy to say “I’m waiting on God,” and sit and do nothing. It takes courage to make a choice and trust God with that decision.
And so, as I am rapidly approaching my 12am deadline for today’s blog, I am ending abruptly, but am choosing to stay committed to completing what I started and finish on time.
May the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. (Phil 4:7,8)
Saturday, April 17, 2010
really hot chocolate
There's this old man who comes into Starbucks almost everyday to get a scalding hot kid's hot chocolate and a venti tuxedo mocha.
The Starbucks I work at is right next to Children's Memorial Hospital in Lincoln Park. We see a lot of doctors and nurses come in and out, as well as family members with lists of drinks to take back to the room where their child has been admitted for anything from a bad cough to a severe case of cancer.
I don't mean to sound depressing, but that's the reality of it.
So this old man has been coming in almost everyday, by himself, since at least November when I first transferred to this store. There would be weeks I would see him everyday and then a week or so would go by without any sight of him. Its like he's an irregular regular... you know he's coming, you just don't know when or how long he's gone stay this time.
I began to enjoy seeing this man when he'd show up day after day, sometimes even twice a day... usually for another tuxedo mocha. He has such a delightful presence and a sweet smile.
Over time I came to find out why he's so irregularly regular. It's because his granddaughter is a regular... to Children's Memorial Hospital.
His 4 year old granddaughter has cancer. She is constantly in and out of the hospital... more in than out. Every day that she's in, he's in there with her. He only leaves her to come over to Starbucks and get her a scalding hot kid's hot chocolate. I used to wonder why he would get it so hot, until the other day he finally said why... "to kill all the germs. I don't let her drink it until it cools down... she's so susceptible to even the littlest of germs."
That explained why the kid's hot chocolate was scalding hot. As for the venti tuxedo mocha, I just assumed it was always for him, but the other day he came in with a cup of 7/11 coffee and still ordered both drinks. "Must not be good coffee," I thought to myself as I stood proudly wearing my Starbucks apron.
As I handed him his change I told him to have a good day, to which he replied "oh I will now, my wife's gotta have her Starbucks and as long as she's happy, I'm happy. I'm just fine with any kind of coffee, it doesn't make any difference to me, but my wife's gotta have her Starbucks."
This man talks in a way that just makes me smile. When you ask him a question he always responds with an answer much longer and more detailed than you were looking for. I think that's what I like about him though, he's very transparent and genuinely interested in what you have to say.
He has come in everyday this week and last, and today I realized that as much as I enjoy seeing him, it's kind of a sad reason that he comes in. He's only in our area when his granddaughter is back in the hospital. She's only back in the hospital when she's not doing well. I realized that if that's the case, then I see this man way more often than I would like to.
I didn't notice him at first when he came in today. I was busy making drinks and I could hear a man talking to a child but I didn't think anything of it... until I heard the drink order... "scalding hot kid's hot chocolate and a venti tuxedo mocha." I looked up and sure enough, it was him. He kept turning around to talk to someone behind him but from the side of the counter I was on, I couldn't see anybody.
As I started to make his drinks I heard him say in a really sweet voice, "don't take your mask off." Right as I was about to think that was a really odd statement, it hit me... "she's here." I have been making this girl's drink for some time now, but have never actually seen her before. I leaned over the counter and there she was... sitting in a stroller. Her bald little head was covered with a felt beanie and she had a breathing mask over her face. All I could see were her bright blue eyes. They were beautiful.
"You brought her with you today!" I said excitedly to her grandpa. He stood proud and responded, "yeap, she insisted on coming with me and I just couldn't say no!"As I handed off his drinks I smiled and waved to his granddaughter. She waved and in a muffled voice from under her mask I heard "thank you."
After they left, I finished cleaning and went on with my day. It's easy not to get too attached to customers... they come and go and without knowing much about them I hand off their drinks and and tell them I hope they have a good day, even if I don't mean it.
I tried to dismiss the thought of this man and his granddaughter as just another customer, but I didn't do so well. I have thought about them all day, and even now at 11pm. People order drinks for other people all the time, and every now and then the people they order for come in and it's funny to finally put a face to the drink, but today it wasn't funny.
This man has been ordering a drink to take to his granddaughter for as long as I've been at this store, and today she finally came in. The difference this time was that I still couldn't put a face to her drink. Covered by a small mask and a felt beanie, she sat patiently in her stroller and waited for her grandpa to get her hot chocolate.
I don't know, nor do I understand, why this four year old girl has cancer. I don't know, nor do I understand, why her 70+ year old grandpa is in better physical health than she is.
I don't know, nor do I understand, why I can't stop thinking about her.
I hope this is just the beginning of writing about her and that I'll get to come back soon and talk about the progress she has made and how well she is doing. And as much as I enjoy seeing her grandpa, I hope the day comes when I see less of him because he doesn't have to order a scalding hot kid's hot chocolate anymore.
I hope one day they'll be back simply for a kid's hot chocolate... and I hope one day I'll finally have the chance to put a face to her drink.
His 4 year old granddaughter has cancer. She is constantly in and out of the hospital... more in than out. Every day that she's in, he's in there with her. He only leaves her to come over to Starbucks and get her a scalding hot kid's hot chocolate. I used to wonder why he would get it so hot, until the other day he finally said why... "to kill all the germs. I don't let her drink it until it cools down... she's so susceptible to even the littlest of germs."
That explained why the kid's hot chocolate was scalding hot. As for the venti tuxedo mocha, I just assumed it was always for him, but the other day he came in with a cup of 7/11 coffee and still ordered both drinks. "Must not be good coffee," I thought to myself as I stood proudly wearing my Starbucks apron.
As I handed him his change I told him to have a good day, to which he replied "oh I will now, my wife's gotta have her Starbucks and as long as she's happy, I'm happy. I'm just fine with any kind of coffee, it doesn't make any difference to me, but my wife's gotta have her Starbucks."
This man talks in a way that just makes me smile. When you ask him a question he always responds with an answer much longer and more detailed than you were looking for. I think that's what I like about him though, he's very transparent and genuinely interested in what you have to say.
He has come in everyday this week and last, and today I realized that as much as I enjoy seeing him, it's kind of a sad reason that he comes in. He's only in our area when his granddaughter is back in the hospital. She's only back in the hospital when she's not doing well. I realized that if that's the case, then I see this man way more often than I would like to.
I didn't notice him at first when he came in today. I was busy making drinks and I could hear a man talking to a child but I didn't think anything of it... until I heard the drink order... "scalding hot kid's hot chocolate and a venti tuxedo mocha." I looked up and sure enough, it was him. He kept turning around to talk to someone behind him but from the side of the counter I was on, I couldn't see anybody.
As I started to make his drinks I heard him say in a really sweet voice, "don't take your mask off." Right as I was about to think that was a really odd statement, it hit me... "she's here." I have been making this girl's drink for some time now, but have never actually seen her before. I leaned over the counter and there she was... sitting in a stroller. Her bald little head was covered with a felt beanie and she had a breathing mask over her face. All I could see were her bright blue eyes. They were beautiful.
"You brought her with you today!" I said excitedly to her grandpa. He stood proud and responded, "yeap, she insisted on coming with me and I just couldn't say no!"As I handed off his drinks I smiled and waved to his granddaughter. She waved and in a muffled voice from under her mask I heard "thank you."
After they left, I finished cleaning and went on with my day. It's easy not to get too attached to customers... they come and go and without knowing much about them I hand off their drinks and and tell them I hope they have a good day, even if I don't mean it.
I tried to dismiss the thought of this man and his granddaughter as just another customer, but I didn't do so well. I have thought about them all day, and even now at 11pm. People order drinks for other people all the time, and every now and then the people they order for come in and it's funny to finally put a face to the drink, but today it wasn't funny.
This man has been ordering a drink to take to his granddaughter for as long as I've been at this store, and today she finally came in. The difference this time was that I still couldn't put a face to her drink. Covered by a small mask and a felt beanie, she sat patiently in her stroller and waited for her grandpa to get her hot chocolate.
I don't know, nor do I understand, why this four year old girl has cancer. I don't know, nor do I understand, why her 70+ year old grandpa is in better physical health than she is.
I don't know, nor do I understand, why I can't stop thinking about her.
I hope this is just the beginning of writing about her and that I'll get to come back soon and talk about the progress she has made and how well she is doing. And as much as I enjoy seeing her grandpa, I hope the day comes when I see less of him because he doesn't have to order a scalding hot kid's hot chocolate anymore.
I hope one day they'll be back simply for a kid's hot chocolate... and I hope one day I'll finally have the chance to put a face to her drink.
Friday, April 16, 2010
cravings
I don't feel like writing today.
Unfortunately, the blog challenge is not to write when I feel like it, its to write everyday... no matter what I feel like. It seemed simple enough at first, but I guess it's days like this that make it a challenge.
I read something this morning that I've been thinking about all day. I usually nap everyday, but today I decided to keep going... maybe that's why I'm so tired right now. Either way, I want to share what I read. I realize it's kind of a cop out to copy and paste something on my blog just so I can check off "write everyday" on my imaginary "to do" list, but the rules of the daily blog challenge never got that specific, so I see no harm in "sharing" what's been on my mind all day.
This is an excerpt from a daily devotional by Oswald Chambers, whom I know at least one of you are familiar with. Its interesting that I'm coping out and posting this just because I don't feel like writing.
Once you read it, I'm sure you'll understand why.
"While ye have light, believe in the light." John 12:36
We all have moments when we feel better than our best, and we say - "I feel fit for anything; if only I could be like this always!" We are not meant to be. Those moments are moments of insight which we have to live up to when we do not feel like it. Many of us are no good for this workaday world when there is no high hour. We must bring our commonplace life up to the standard revealed in the high hour.
Never allow a feeling which was stirred in you in the high hour to evaporate. Don't put your mental feet on the mantelpiece and say - "What a marvelous state of mind to be in!" Act immediately, do something, if only because you would rather not do it. If in a prayer meeting God has shown you something to do, don't say - "I'll do it"; do it! Take yourself by the scruff of the neck and shake off your incarnate laziness. Laziness is always seen in cravings for the high hour; we talk about working up to a time on the mount. We have to learn to live in the grey day according to what we saw on the mount.
Don't cave in because you have been baffled once, get at it again. Burn your bridges behind you, and stand committed to God by your own act. Never revise your decisions, but see that you make your decisions in the light of the high hour.
Unfortunately, the blog challenge is not to write when I feel like it, its to write everyday... no matter what I feel like. It seemed simple enough at first, but I guess it's days like this that make it a challenge.
I read something this morning that I've been thinking about all day. I usually nap everyday, but today I decided to keep going... maybe that's why I'm so tired right now. Either way, I want to share what I read. I realize it's kind of a cop out to copy and paste something on my blog just so I can check off "write everyday" on my imaginary "to do" list, but the rules of the daily blog challenge never got that specific, so I see no harm in "sharing" what's been on my mind all day.
This is an excerpt from a daily devotional by Oswald Chambers, whom I know at least one of you are familiar with. Its interesting that I'm coping out and posting this just because I don't feel like writing.
Once you read it, I'm sure you'll understand why.
CAN YOU COME DOWN?
"While ye have light, believe in the light." John 12:36
We all have moments when we feel better than our best, and we say - "I feel fit for anything; if only I could be like this always!" We are not meant to be. Those moments are moments of insight which we have to live up to when we do not feel like it. Many of us are no good for this workaday world when there is no high hour. We must bring our commonplace life up to the standard revealed in the high hour.
Never allow a feeling which was stirred in you in the high hour to evaporate. Don't put your mental feet on the mantelpiece and say - "What a marvelous state of mind to be in!" Act immediately, do something, if only because you would rather not do it. If in a prayer meeting God has shown you something to do, don't say - "I'll do it"; do it! Take yourself by the scruff of the neck and shake off your incarnate laziness. Laziness is always seen in cravings for the high hour; we talk about working up to a time on the mount. We have to learn to live in the grey day according to what we saw on the mount.
Don't cave in because you have been baffled once, get at it again. Burn your bridges behind you, and stand committed to God by your own act. Never revise your decisions, but see that you make your decisions in the light of the high hour.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
imagine
So, I'm in my room reminiscing to some old tunes I used to run to and it's really hard for me to concentrate on writing when Destiny's Child "Booty-luscious" is blasting in the background. I can not, however, bring myself to turn it off. I don't think I'm ready.
Pause for now... I must dance.
Annnnnnnnnnd... done!
After my dance session, I put in a cover album of some of the Beatles greatest hits. It reminds me of my childhood. I went through a long phase in middle school where I swore I was supposed to be the fifth Beatle who was born into the wrong time period. My walls were covered with posters of the fabulous four and I would day dream about what it would be like to play the piano in the background while John, Paul, George and Ringo would rock out center stage. I sat perfectly still behind a beautiful piano during the song "In My Life" and waited for John to give me the cue with a look and a head nod, which meant I could take it away on the piano solo.
After I'd finish they'd all smile as they kept singing and I'd smile too because I knew after the show they would all tell me how proud they were of me.
I was a weird kid.
I lived mostly in my imagination with a few real friends here and there. I had crushes on guys I knew I would never meet, either because they were famous or they were dead. I often pretended like my life was a movie and I would take on different roles of different characters.
I made fun of my little sister a lot because she made this club called "the cleaning club" where she would talk to the mirror, a.k.a her TV audience, and teach them how to properly clean their rooms. Her room was the demonstration room. This is what she did for fun. I thought she was crazy.
Though I made fun of her as to appear "cool," I also talked into my mirror every time I was in my room. The difference was that it was cooler when I did it... I wasn't pretending to be the president of the cleaning club, I would pretend my "boyfriend" was on the other side and I'd be crying over a breakup, or that I lost my job and didn't know how I was going to support my kids. Once I was even on a hockey team that just won a national championship and I was responding to the the coach telling me I was the backbone of the team... although I'm pretty sure that scene was shortly after watching the quack attack come back in The Mighty Ducks sequel. I didn't always invent the scenes, sometimes I just re-enacted them the way I thought they should go. I thought of it as creativity with just a touch of plagiarism.
I was about to say I miss those days of my imagination running wild, but I can't necessarily say they are over. Things have definitely changed... I have to worry about paying bills and buying groceries, so I can't run around as careless as I did when I was a child, but I still daydream. I still talk into my mirror, but better yet, now that I'm all grown up I have my own camera and actually get to capture some of my nonsense on tape.
This is a peek behind closed doors when no one is around. I never planned on showing this to anyone when I filmed it, I just had the camera sitting there and I was bored, so I turned it on...
Pause for now... I must dance.
Annnnnnnnnnd... done!
After my dance session, I put in a cover album of some of the Beatles greatest hits. It reminds me of my childhood. I went through a long phase in middle school where I swore I was supposed to be the fifth Beatle who was born into the wrong time period. My walls were covered with posters of the fabulous four and I would day dream about what it would be like to play the piano in the background while John, Paul, George and Ringo would rock out center stage. I sat perfectly still behind a beautiful piano during the song "In My Life" and waited for John to give me the cue with a look and a head nod, which meant I could take it away on the piano solo.
After I'd finish they'd all smile as they kept singing and I'd smile too because I knew after the show they would all tell me how proud they were of me.
I was a weird kid.
I lived mostly in my imagination with a few real friends here and there. I had crushes on guys I knew I would never meet, either because they were famous or they were dead. I often pretended like my life was a movie and I would take on different roles of different characters.
I made fun of my little sister a lot because she made this club called "the cleaning club" where she would talk to the mirror, a.k.a her TV audience, and teach them how to properly clean their rooms. Her room was the demonstration room. This is what she did for fun. I thought she was crazy.
Though I made fun of her as to appear "cool," I also talked into my mirror every time I was in my room. The difference was that it was cooler when I did it... I wasn't pretending to be the president of the cleaning club, I would pretend my "boyfriend" was on the other side and I'd be crying over a breakup, or that I lost my job and didn't know how I was going to support my kids. Once I was even on a hockey team that just won a national championship and I was responding to the the coach telling me I was the backbone of the team... although I'm pretty sure that scene was shortly after watching the quack attack come back in The Mighty Ducks sequel. I didn't always invent the scenes, sometimes I just re-enacted them the way I thought they should go. I thought of it as creativity with just a touch of plagiarism.
I was about to say I miss those days of my imagination running wild, but I can't necessarily say they are over. Things have definitely changed... I have to worry about paying bills and buying groceries, so I can't run around as careless as I did when I was a child, but I still daydream. I still talk into my mirror, but better yet, now that I'm all grown up I have my own camera and actually get to capture some of my nonsense on tape.
This is a peek behind closed doors when no one is around. I never planned on showing this to anyone when I filmed it, I just had the camera sitting there and I was bored, so I turned it on...
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
pointless
23 minutes till midnight and I honestly got nothing.
How can I have nothing to say?
Do I care that much about what I write that I can't write unless it's perfect? I can't come up with the perfect entry in 23 minutes...
oop... 22.
In an attempt to not be perfect, there is absolutely no point to the story I'm about to tell... but who knows, maybe one will come out of it.
My alarm went off this morning at 5:20. I worked from 6:00am-2:30pm, but my day didn't really start until I got home from work.
I painted today.
I got paint stuck in my finger nails, and although I washed most of it out there were definitely some traces left behind resulting in what looked like "hey mom, look, I just dug a hole in the back yard!"
Long story short, because I'm running out of time, I bite my fingernails... a lot.
OK, a whole lot.
Today was no exception, although it would have been nice if it were due to the fact that I had oil and acyclic paints stuck in my fingernails.
I drove out to the suburbs around 7pm, biting my nails, because let's face it... what else is there to do in traffic? And about half way through my trip I began to feel really weird, and kind of woozy.
It suddenly dawned on me that I might possibly be eating paint chips.
And then I realized...
I'm definitely eating paint chips.
By the time I got to my destination, church, mind you, I felt sick and slightly high.
How do I know what's like to feel high? I don't, because the one time I did try pot, I did not inhale.
OK, that's not true, I didn't inhale on more than one occasion.
OK, that's not entirely true either, but that's a topic to be discussed later when I have more than 19 minutes left to write before my daily deadline. For those of you who want to pray for my soul now, don't worry, I have repented since "those days" and been forgiven, but thank you for your concern.
In a nut shell, I went to church high. Not on drugs, not on life, not on the Holy Spirit... on paint that I had eaten from underneath my fingernails.
What an exciting life I lead.
Thank you, Lord... for today. For the weather, for my bacon & cheese sandwich, and that little spot on the corner where we sat in the sun on my lunch break.
Thank you that I got to paint, outside, even if I did get a little high. Thank for not only understanding but giving me my sense of humor.
Thank you that I can rest in the truth that it is your smile that I live for and not that of the "world" or the "church."
Thank you, Lord.
It is You, I adore.
That's not pointless at all!
Thank you, Lord.
How can I have nothing to say?
Do I care that much about what I write that I can't write unless it's perfect? I can't come up with the perfect entry in 23 minutes...
oop... 22.
In an attempt to not be perfect, there is absolutely no point to the story I'm about to tell... but who knows, maybe one will come out of it.
A Pointless Story About My Day
by JJ Barrows
by JJ Barrows
My alarm went off this morning at 5:20. I worked from 6:00am-2:30pm, but my day didn't really start until I got home from work.
I painted today.
I got paint stuck in my finger nails, and although I washed most of it out there were definitely some traces left behind resulting in what looked like "hey mom, look, I just dug a hole in the back yard!"
Long story short, because I'm running out of time, I bite my fingernails... a lot.
OK, a whole lot.
Today was no exception, although it would have been nice if it were due to the fact that I had oil and acyclic paints stuck in my fingernails.
I drove out to the suburbs around 7pm, biting my nails, because let's face it... what else is there to do in traffic? And about half way through my trip I began to feel really weird, and kind of woozy.
It suddenly dawned on me that I might possibly be eating paint chips.
And then I realized...
I'm definitely eating paint chips.
By the time I got to my destination, church, mind you, I felt sick and slightly high.
How do I know what's like to feel high? I don't, because the one time I did try pot, I did not inhale.
OK, that's not true, I didn't inhale on more than one occasion.
OK, that's not entirely true either, but that's a topic to be discussed later when I have more than 19 minutes left to write before my daily deadline. For those of you who want to pray for my soul now, don't worry, I have repented since "those days" and been forgiven, but thank you for your concern.
In a nut shell, I went to church high. Not on drugs, not on life, not on the Holy Spirit... on paint that I had eaten from underneath my fingernails.
What an exciting life I lead.
Thank you, Lord... for today. For the weather, for my bacon & cheese sandwich, and that little spot on the corner where we sat in the sun on my lunch break.
Thank you that I got to paint, outside, even if I did get a little high. Thank for not only understanding but giving me my sense of humor.
Thank you that I can rest in the truth that it is your smile that I live for and not that of the "world" or the "church."
Thank you, Lord.
It is You, I adore.
That's not pointless at all!
Thank you, Lord.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
spending
Today I am morning the loss of a friend...
the Polaroid camera.
Never again to be found in stores (aside from resale and thrift), the Polaroid camera and its sidekick, Polaroid film, have been officially discontinued as of February 5, 2010.
I went online and tried to buy film for a Polaroid camera today. The cheapest I found was $32.00 plus shipping. The most expensive was over $200... no joke.
Its as if as soon as Polaroid was discontinued, anyone who had any left in stock tripled the price and knew people would pay for it simply because they all of a sudden couldn't have it.
Why do we do that? Why do I do that?
I want what I can't have. Sometimes not even necessarily because I want it, but simply because I can't have it. And then I get it, and I realize I don't want it.
I know the cycle, yet I find myself repeating it.
Or let's say I legitimately do want something... not because I can't have it, or because I need it, but just because I want it.
Is that reason enough to get it?
I need to pay my bills. I want a Polaroid camera with film.
Last week I wanted to go to Africa. Last week I needed to pay my bills.
Going to Africa seems more of a noble cause to invest in than a Polaroid camera, but nonetheless, I can't justify going to Africa either simply because it is a "noble" cause. I still need to pay my bills.
I hate growing up.
Sometimes.
Right now BLICK (art store) has canvases on sale for 50-60% off. I want some new canvases. When and where else am I going to find canvases for that cheap? I need to get them now.
OK, I don't need to, but I want to.
I also need to get groceries for this week. And let's be honest, I don't want to but I need to.
It's funny how much I don't like spending money on the essential things in life and how willing I am to waste it on the latest trend.
Yuck.
I'm too tired to continue and I know my thoughts are scattered, but this is what it looks like to just write without days and days of proof reading and editing before posting an entry.
I always talk about being authentic, but I make sure I sound good when I do it.
I have a feeling this challenge of blogging everyday is going to be a bit harder than I thought. But I think it will be good. I have to set down my desire of wanting to come across as a good writer and just write, despite how I come across.
I still want a Polaroid camera, and some canvases, and a bike. I was hoping that would change by the end of this, but it hasn't. I realize it's OK to want those things, but it doesn't mean I need them.
I need to pay my bills, I need to buy some groceries, and I need to spend a whole lot more....
time in prayer.
the Polaroid camera.
Never again to be found in stores (aside from resale and thrift), the Polaroid camera and its sidekick, Polaroid film, have been officially discontinued as of February 5, 2010.
I went online and tried to buy film for a Polaroid camera today. The cheapest I found was $32.00 plus shipping. The most expensive was over $200... no joke.
Its as if as soon as Polaroid was discontinued, anyone who had any left in stock tripled the price and knew people would pay for it simply because they all of a sudden couldn't have it.
Why do we do that? Why do I do that?
I want what I can't have. Sometimes not even necessarily because I want it, but simply because I can't have it. And then I get it, and I realize I don't want it.
I know the cycle, yet I find myself repeating it.
Or let's say I legitimately do want something... not because I can't have it, or because I need it, but just because I want it.
Is that reason enough to get it?
I need to pay my bills. I want a Polaroid camera with film.
Last week I wanted to go to Africa. Last week I needed to pay my bills.
Going to Africa seems more of a noble cause to invest in than a Polaroid camera, but nonetheless, I can't justify going to Africa either simply because it is a "noble" cause. I still need to pay my bills.
I hate growing up.
Sometimes.
Right now BLICK (art store) has canvases on sale for 50-60% off. I want some new canvases. When and where else am I going to find canvases for that cheap? I need to get them now.
OK, I don't need to, but I want to.
I also need to get groceries for this week. And let's be honest, I don't want to but I need to.
It's funny how much I don't like spending money on the essential things in life and how willing I am to waste it on the latest trend.
Yuck.
I'm too tired to continue and I know my thoughts are scattered, but this is what it looks like to just write without days and days of proof reading and editing before posting an entry.
I always talk about being authentic, but I make sure I sound good when I do it.
I have a feeling this challenge of blogging everyday is going to be a bit harder than I thought. But I think it will be good. I have to set down my desire of wanting to come across as a good writer and just write, despite how I come across.
I still want a Polaroid camera, and some canvases, and a bike. I was hoping that would change by the end of this, but it hasn't. I realize it's OK to want those things, but it doesn't mean I need them.
I need to pay my bills, I need to buy some groceries, and I need to spend a whole lot more....
time in prayer.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
.jpg)
