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Archive for the ‘Boredom’ Category

It occurred to me in the shower this morning that I am paralyzed by fear. Stuck stock still, feet set in concrete. I’m scared out of my mind. And here is what I am afraid of: that I will never change. That I will always be wondering where my motivation is hiding. Wondering what my problem is–blaming the stagnant patterns in my life on OCD, or depression, or my childhood, or something else external that I have no control over (my sister’s death…). Scared to death that if I start something–anything–that I will just run out of motivational gas and go back to wondering when my life is going to change. I have started and fizzled out so many times–the memories of pushing off and heading out full speed only to fail and stop lay on top of each other in my head like a pile of unmovable rocks–heavy and unyielding.

The other obvious related bullet I’m trying to dodge is failure. I haven’t written on here because I’ve been so fearful of having nothing to say. A friend of mine over at Snarkington Post told me wisely on facebook the other day: “Blog about being blog-blocked.” Good advice. Of course the conversation started because her sister, my dear friend, told me gently (and I quote) “Update your blog you wiener!” I would link to HER blog, but she too has been on hiatus (wiener!).

So I guess that is what I’m doing. I’m just going to start and be boring and make mistakes and sound stupid. I found this super inspiring blog yesterday by Christine Kane. Her tagline is Be Creative. Be Conscious. Be Courageous. I love that. Especially because I’m in need of some courage. She wrote this great post about taking imperfect action. How taking action–however imperfect–is better than taking no action at all. Which is where I have been hiding. Where it is safe (but boring and terribly unsatisfying…)

I want to look my fear in the eye and not flinch. I want to roll my eyes and shrug my shoulders and just dismiss it.

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Here’s what I should be doing: getting my house ready for our Big Open House tomorrow. Even after two cups of coffee and a lovely stroll around the neighborhood garage sales, I still can’t seem to gather up my motivation. SO MUCH needs to be done. Over and above  the normal stuff that already makes me cranky (i.e.  unloading the dishwasher…) It is just so painful. You’d think someone was making me staple my tongue.

I feel all this pressure, like if everything is NOT perfect, it will be my fault that the house doesn’t sell. This is irrational, like most thoughts that run through my head. And with a little effort, we can achieve a state of house bliss, but I must say, this house selling thing is getting old. I’m just tired of it.

I’m boring myself with my complaints. Bleh.

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There is not enough coffee in the world.

I’m going to go get some more. I heard they have Starbucks downstairs.

I’ll miss working at JBU.

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Oh, the weekend drearies! Maybe it’s just the weather. But I find myself wandering around the house, wondering what to do with myself. (Wait, I do that every day of the week. Why should I expect the weekends to be any different?)

At least I’m happy to be back into some kind of routine again. Having time off at Christmas was terrific, but there is something to be said for normal life. I take things for granted when I’m here–my comfy (albeit ugly) couch, my electric blanket and just the familiar rhythm of things. I don’t notice their absence until I have to pile 50 blankets on myself in a strange bed in Pennsylvania.

The super hard part of going and coming back though, is knowing how many miles are between us and our families. And believe me, on a 20 hour car trip, I felt every one of those miles. Sadie and her cousin had such a great time, it makes me sad that they only get to see each other once or twice a year. I grew up a few miles away from both sets of my grandparents, and I saw my cousins at least monthly. Sadie’s world is a lot different than mine growing up. I know I feel it more intensely than her–she doesn’t know any different way of life. But our life is good here in Arkansas, and unless God makes it clear that we are supposed to be somewhere else, we’re here. And I’m glad we are. I just get wistful around the holidays.

In other news, Dan and I rented ‘Stardust’ last night–so very delightful! A fairy tale for grown ups. Loved it. Oh, and we are teaching the Young Adult Sunday school in our church starting this Sunday. Super laid back, get some yummy sweet stuff, and some coffee, then we’ll watch a short video clip, and discuss. We’re doing the Nooma videos by Rob Bell. Hopefully we won’t be the only ones who show up. Oh, well, more sweet rolls for us 🙂

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I just have to say, going to work is the highlight of my 8 to 3 day. I love the people I work with, and feel so a part of the team. Maybe I’d complain more if I had to work more than 10 hours a week, but I don’t know. I’m still having trouble disciplining the rest of my time. Sometimes I want more hours at work just because I don’t know what to do with myself the rest of the day until I pick up Sadie. Wait, let me rephrase that. I know what needs to be done–and what I SHOULD be doing (housework, etc.) But I don’t know how to manage the time enough so that I can get what I have to get done, then go on to other, more interesting things. So instead of digging in and doing the yucky stuff first, I drag around the burden of it all day and enjoy nothing.  How pathetic is that?

Like right now, I’m not at home. I left work, and came over to the university library because I don’t want to go home. I’ve got to stop running away from unpleasantness. It’s not like I’m really free of it just because I’m not there. Why don’t I just put a cement block in my purse. That would be easier to carry. For some reason, talking about the issue over and over and over and over seems to be easier than just doing something about my poor time management. It is totally annoying. I am sick of the words right now, in fact. So for everyone’s sake, I’ll stop.

In other news,  Sadie’s favorite answer to any question we ask her is “Blee, Blah.” Or sometimes there is a variation: “Blee, Blee, Blah, Blah, Blah.” Secret code for I’m stubborn as a mule and I don’t feel like answering that question.

I’ve actually found this technique quite useful myself. For example when Dan asked me what I did with the chicken grease that had partially congealed in the bottom of the crock pot, instead of saying “I dumped it down the drain,” I said “Blee, Blah.”

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Sometimes I spend far too much energy on trying to identify what I’m feeling. It is so in my make up to communicate, that I’m usually going overboard with my feeling descriptions. So I’m sitting on the couch feeling something unpleasant. Vague anxiety, passivity, emptiness–I’m just not sure…and I say to Dan: “I feel invisible inside. Like I’m not anchored to anything.” I’m digging deep, trying to explain it. I go on some more, and he says: “Oh. It sounds like you’re bored.”

He was totally right.

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