Everything is stacked everywhere and I feel completely overwhelmed. I have stacks of job ads. I have stacks of framed pictures. I have a huge stack of winter clothes I won't need for months tangled up with a pile of dresses I never take the time to wear. I have stacks of books and stacks of movies. I have 2 little stacks of random gifts, letters, and notes that need to go into a box so I can send them to my best friend, Nikky sometime in the not so distant future. I have stacks of photo albums, and tonight I just feel like my life is a series of piles strewn about on my floor.
Everyone wants to help, everyone wants to ask questions, everyone wants me to come visit them soon or to go to lunch, and everyone wishes this hadn't happened.
I keep trying to tell myself that resigning from this job that I believed was my dream job would somehow rectify what was going on. Doing this would help me find my path back, and I still think it will, but sitting here surrounded by all this stuff that I'd honestly like to throw into the street and never see again, it's hard to believe. (In my head I can just see all my stuff stacked on the curb as I watch out our porch windows as people come and dance with glee at their good fortune to find stacks of wonderful books and music and movies and clothes and everything as if it were that seen in Elizabethtown where Drew gets to witness just that.)
What's keeping me together is the God keeps reminding me how loved I am. My siblings, sister-in-law, parents, uncles, aunts, cousins, and close friends keep reminding me. People keep trying to connect me to job opportunities or volunteering as references. People keep trying to help me get all my stuff in one place or move things for me. People keep hugging me and telling me how glad they are to see me home. People keep offering to injure certain offending parties. I guess I keep trying to spread out all those beautiful kindnesses and gifts in front of me and put them on top of all the stacks. It may seem like that would add to the mess, but really it just makes everything a little brighter and more beautiful.
Everything about this is insane, but at least there's hope.
Wednesday, August 6, 2014
Sunday, August 3, 2014
Having just finished reading Dave Barry's wonderful Big Trouble for the 2nd or 3rd time, I should be in the post-good-book stupor, but instead my brain is thinking about other things. About unfinished letters to a man from Nebraska that I'll never send to ask honest questions he'll never answer. About how I'm less than 2 years from being 30 and still don't know what I want to do with my life and am seemingly no closer to being at peace with myself. About how my family and friends are better than I deserve especially after the final epic explosion and disintegration of my relationship with my boss in SC and my car officially becoming a death trap and the 30-40 flea bites I got from spending under 24 hrs in the house is spent the past 9 months living in and trying to rescue and clean up my kitten. And the fact that it's becoming less and less likely all the time that I'll ever get a chance to have kids let alone find someone to share my life with.
What I don't get is why my brain can't think about these things during the day with the sunshine and coffee? Can't these thoughts wait till morning when I can sift through them properly?
I've decided that I want to be happy with my body by the time I turn 30, and I'm wondering if I should ever eat again. Ha.
Somewhere inside my head I am trying to remind myself that I need to find a job, put up bookshelves, clean out my closet, actually unpack, resign from the job I love that has recently decided I don't matter enough to pay me, and actually do something good for myself. I've already had all my bad luck. It's time to just find the good and help it grow.
Siiiiigh. Most of all, I need sleep. Maybe tonight I'll have better dreams.