Escape

I've done it again. I have packed my life to bursting with things to do, people to see, jobs to accomplish. It seems like everything always seems to line up to happen at the same time. My busiest times at my day job line up with the time I have agreed to teach a class, those people I haven't spoken to in months come out of the woodwork and want to get together, another women's Bible/book study at church starts up... So I end up behind at work, procrastinating working on my class nonstop the rest of the time, sneaking in socializing when I should be working, and neglecting my women's group duties. (Thankfully I have an understanding partner in the women's group leading!) As the paperwork piles up, the extra meetings and letters and phone calls suck up my time, the weeks of class keep coming...it starts to get a bit overwhelming...

A couple of weeks ago, I had had enough. I was on the edge of a mental breakdown. So Tuesday after work I drove to the movie theater for their super bargain matinees. Cheap movie, cheap popcorn and pop.

And it was the best decision I could have made for myself.

I wrestled with myself over it, knowing that I should be going home and grading papers or staying late at work to catch up on paperwork, but I can't even describe how many millions of times better I felt after allowing myself to escape for a couple of hours. Yes, I had to return to reality, but it was with a lighter heart and more energy than I had before the break.

Thus, Cinema Tuesdays were born. It's only been a few weeks, but I love it. It doesn't matter what I see. Allowing myself those couple of hours in a dark theater has helped me to calm my anxieties, and sometimes get out those emotions I don't have time to deal with. (The first week, I bawled during one of the scenes...it was very cathartic!)

My apartment is still a pit. My car looks like a hobo lives in it. I eat out way more than I should. But I only have one week of class left. Then I can shovel out my apartment, declutter my living space and my car, go to the store and actually start cooking again, and, best of all, start writing again! I have a lot of catching up at work to do as well. But I'll get there. I found my escape. Have you found yours?

Laugh on :)

Unprepared

I know I should have been prepared. It happens every time. But I just pretend it's not going to happen. I pretend that it won't hurt as bad. I pretend that it's no big deal.

It is a big deal.

As I was sitting there, I was thinking about what I could have done to prevent the pain. Then I moved to thinking about what I could do to stop the pain. Violence was considered. A sound punch to the jaw might have done the trick. My hands clenched as the violent compulsion rushed through me.

Just a little longer, I told myself. It'll be over soon. I could taste the blood.

When I thought I couldn't take it any longer, the dental hygienist finally leaned back and flipped off the glaring spotlight.

"See you in three months for your next cleaning!"

Can't wait.

Choices

As I wrote my entry yesterday, I was clearly frustrated and feeling slightly overwhelmed. I think that's why I forgot something that I had meant to share. Something that I found fairly significant, at least for me.

At the school I have the privilege to work in, I see daily examples of people doing things that I consider "above and beyond." When I mentioned this to the principal, she just replied, humbly, "I don't consider it going above and beyond. I consider it doing my job. I don't want any obstacles to get in the way of these families getting the chance they need." Inspirational in and of itself.

Taking this philosophy to heart, I offered to accompany the principal to the hospital to meet with a parent to sign intake paperwork. The parent is quite ill, and the kid is having a rough go of it and needs help. As we boarded the elevator, a tall man, just a bit older than myself, joined us. He grinned and said, "How are you all doing today?" We murmured that we were doing well, then the principal politely returned the question. Without hesitation, this cheerful man said, "I'm really good. In fact, I'm great every day. Life is a choice!" With that, we were at our stop, and parted ways.

As I donned my surgical mask to enter the parent's room, it stuck in my mind. Life IS a choice. We will all have struggles. Things will not always go our way. But in the midst of all that, we can CHOOSE to find joy and laughter. We can CHOOSE to focus on the positive things.

The parent I was meeting with to sign paperwork had just had a treatment. She was clearly in pain and exhausted, but insisted on doing every bit of the intake, including the long comprehensive interview/history, even when I offered to complete it with another family member instead. She CHOSE to work through the pain and exhaustion for the love of her child, and the hope that her child would get the needed help.

Some days, I know I don't choose to be happy. Some days, I choose to wallow in my own self pity, thinking of the things I don't have, drowning in unfulfilled wishes and impossible dreams. But I am determined now to find things every day to be thankful for, to be happy about, to laugh at. Because without laughter and joy, life is empty. And I choose a full life.

Laugh on.

Laugh or cry

Ugh.

That's all I have to say about this day and this week. Let's recap, shall we?

. My computer won't charge anymore. It's been sent to the computer doc at a total cost of probably my firstborn child.

.My car sometimes decides not to start, it squeaks, and at times I'm sure the engine is going to fail. I can't really afford to even get it checked out.

.I have been working extra hours to try to keep afloat at work, and dealing with suicidal kids and uncooperative adults is no cup of tea.

.I got a call from my apartment management saying there is a leak right below my apartment. Everything was fine when I left this morning, but I am dreading hearing what happened. Plus, my apartment is a pit, so I am mortified that someone will be in there. I just hope I didn't leave any unmentionables hanging around. I am sitting here stewing because I don't have time to run home and check on things.

.When I finally made it to the bathroom after a morning of rushing around, I discovered that my eyeliner had been masquerading as eye shadow (all over my eyelid) for who knows how long, and I was developing a lovely stress zit on my chin. Wonder why.

But...

At least I have access to a computer and therefore access to communication and the world. I have a computer at work and a phone with internet access, so I'm not cut off. And while I will have to put the repair on my credit card, I have a stable job that allows me to pay a little at a time.

At least I have a car, a mode of transportation. I use it to get to the above-mentioned stable job and all over to see friends and do the essential errands of everyday life. Eventually I will be able to bring it to be checked out, and when I do, I will figure out a way to pay for that little by little as well.

At least my job is busy enough that I am not in any danger of being fired or moved elsewhere. I have a good relationship with the people I work with, and my clients trust me to bring up really difficult stuff to talk through in therapy. I am making a difference.

At least my apartment management is on top of maintenance problems. I'm sure they've seen much worse messes than what is left in my apartment. If there is a major problem, they will fix it at no cost to me. There aren't many perks to living in an apartment, but that is definitely one of them.

At least I have a fabulous support system, friends and family who are there to listen to me moan about my first world problems, or to step in and help me out when the situation calls for it.

At least I am healthy. I did an intake in the hospital this morning with a parent who is very very sick. My family and friends are relatively healthy as well. Many families cannot say the same.

At least I have clean drinking water and clothes, a place to call my home and plenty of extra conveniences that I often take for granted.

At least I know that I will have a warm and comfy place to sleep tonight, and people to take me in if anything happens to the shelter I am able to provide myself.

At least I was able to eat lunch, even a quick cheeseburger in the car between running paperwork downtown and coming back to my busy afternoon.

At least I have my faith. I know that God will be with me no matter what. To some this may seem like a crutch, but for me, it is an opportunity to admit my weakness and find true strength.

Even when things seem to pile up, at least I know they will get better. And I will always find a reason to laugh.

Laugh on.

Let's go to the movies

Several times over the past few weeks it has come up in conversation that one of my favorite things to do is go to the movies by myself. The typical reaction I get when I announce this is one of disbelief. "You go to the movies alone??" people gasp, hands on their hearts as if I've told them I like to watch babies sumo wrestle. What baffles them even more is that I enjoy doing so.

In reality, going to the movies is one of the best solo activities I can think of. It's not like you can do a lot of socializing in a darkened theater anyway. When I go, I can see whatever I want, be as early or as late as I choose, and get that extra butter on the popcorn without judgment from anyone but the girl behind the candy counter.

When I went to college, I was unable to do anything by myself. If I had to run to the store, I would wander up and down the dorm halls, asking if anyone wanted to come with me. I needed someone to come and eat with me at the cafeteria, and forget about attending any sort of social event alone. I needed other people to be my crutches, to help me avoid being painfully awkward in public places.

As I got older and went to grad school, I was forced into doing more and more things alone. To my surprise, I realized that I actually really liked doing things solo. When I worked in other towns doing home-based therapy, I had to go to restaurants and eat by myself, or sit in my car and do so. I much preferred being a warm restaurant in the middle of winter to sitting in my car wasting gas and risking a major spill. Going to the store is much more convenient when I only have to worry about my own purchases. I can get in and out quickly. And finally, I have found that doing recreational activities by myself can be as enjoyable as doing them in a group.

Don't get me wrong, I love my friends, and I love being social. However, I think that my ability to do things on my own has helped me to be a better friend and more confident in social situations. I no long lean on my friends, but stand strong on my own. I don't depend on others to keep me from being awkward, but accept that my awkwardness is part of me, and can even be somewhat charming and endearing to others. I think I fall firmly in the middle of the introvert/extrovert continuum, gaining energy from both group and solo activities.

I'm an independent woman. And proud of it. And if you don't do things on your own...give it a shot! You might like it :)

Laugh on!

Who wins?

I have this friend, and she was asking my advice about a troubling situation in her workplace. The boss is quitting, and there are two internal applicants for the position. HR wants the input of employees as to who they should hire, to make sure that the new boss with match with the majority of workers. The two candidates have very different agendas. It doesn't matter what the agendas are, but just know that they are pretty much polar opposite. About the only thing they have in common is that they want to be in charge, and they want the company to be powerful and prosperous.

In an effort to swing employees, each candidate for the position has been going from office to office, cube to cube, talking to people to get a feel for what they want in a boss. What my friend has noticed, however, is that the candidate's position changes with each person they speak with. They seem to emphasize whatever the person is looking for. The most troubling part, however, is that the majority of their talks with the employees seems to center around bashing the other candidate. They point out mistakes that the other person has made in the job, times when their projects didn't turn out exactly right. In fact, both candidates are focusing their own campaigns for the job on what the other person is doing, or has done, wrong. They send out emails with pictures of the other in compromising positions, and spread rumors and gossip like wildfire.

Does this seem unethical to anyone else? I'm not sure someone who uses those sorts of tactics even deserves to be in a position of leadership.



Okay, you got me. I totally made that up. But I have to wonder...if the tactics used in the Presidential campaign were used in a business so overtly, what kind of environment would that be to work in? And, even scarier, how often are those tactics actually used on the sly? It's a weird world we live in. Which is why, despite the rampantly negative political campaigns going on right now (thank goodness for the mute button), I still choose to...

Laugh on :)

Crashing to earth

Wow, what a depressing title! What emo kid came up with that one? Yeesh...

So it's been almost a week since I finished my novel and blogged triumphantly about its completion. Songs were sung, feasts were had, accolades were proclaimed (by me, for me). I even kept the momentum going by immediately beginning my next project. I am already 27 Word pages into a brand new story. I sent my first novel off to a batch of amazing friends who agreed to test read for me and give suggestions. Now I just sit back and wait for revisions, right?

But then what?

Today I was supposed to be cleaning cleaning cleaning. My cousin is coming to stay for a week, and she would probably appreciate a spot to sleep and a clean bathroom. Instead, I found myself exploring the world of finding a literary agent. I have been told again and again how hard it is to become published. That I should consider self-publishing as an ebook, which is not out of the question. But I really want to try the old-fashioned route first. I have tried to remain optimistic, saying that if I don't try, then I definitely won't be published! Which is true. But...

This is freaking scary! Everything I read and research tells me over and over that getting published is a numbers game. Of course, if you do your research, find an agent that has worked in the genre, write a professional and clever query letter, your odds increase. But still, agents receive tens of thousands of query letters a year! How do I compete? And even if I get a partial manuscript request, there is no guarantee. And mostly it's a waiting game. Putting my dreams in someone else's hands. Giving them the ability to crush them.

Okay, getting dramatic here.

Here's the thing. I have been fairly successful in my life. I'm happy, in general, with how things have gone. I did well in school, got my master's degree. I'm working in a job I love (most days). I'm even trying my hand at teaching a college class starting in a month. I won't say any of those things came easily, because I have worked hard, but everything I've done up until this point was safe. Safe because I knew I could succeed. Safe because my ability to succeed was in my hands and no one else's. Safe because while I have enjoyed what I'm doing, nothing I've yet accomplished could necessarily be considered my "dream."

And now there's this writing thing. A dream I have held close to my heart for a long time. A dream that I procrastinated over and over for fear of failing. Writing, being published, being able to share my stories with scores of people, that is a Dream with a capital D. Something I have longed for since writing about Jenny the Tooth in third grade. The scariest part is that this Dream, this sacred thing that means the most, is the one thing that I am going to try that may realistically never come true.

Oh sure, I joke about being on the New York Times Bestseller list, and making my books into movies, but realistically things like that don't happen to just anybody. I'd like to think that my writing is good enough for that, but there are hundreds, probably thousands of others out there with just as much, or more, ability, all headed for the same goal.

I plan to continue to dream big. I hope that I can navigate these waters and deal with whatever rejection and difficulty comes my way. I know that I will be discouraged, and that's where you, my friends, come in. You don't need to tell me that I will definitely make it as a writer. I know that's not true, and unless you have developed phenomenal cosmic powers of future telling, you can't say that it's true either. All I need is support and encouragement. And maybe a friend to cry over ice cream with from time to time ;)

Laugh on, and keep dreaming!