Still looking for full-time work. Not sure what I want to do, but have stopped prioritizing self-actualization above self-gettingmybuttingearization. I may or may not have 45 different versions of my resume. I may or may not have an Excel sheet with every job I've applied to so far so I can keep track of them all and not get them confused with each other...like I did that one time. "Hi, hiring team at XYZ! I'm really interested in the position at ABC..." Whoops.
Still working two part-time jobs. Both of which are unglamorous and slow-going, and one of which has me in my basement staring at my laptop trying to be profound and persuasive. I am not good at this a majority of the time. Most days the easy task of rewriting something feels absolutely impossible. Most adult tasks feel absolutely impossible.
Still very sick. Going on over a month. I'm 100% sure that part-time job #2 has made this happen...a toxic cocktail of toddler germs, warm pool water and a badly functioning salt filtration system = pneumonia for life. I'm a dead woman by Christmas. It was nice knowing you all.
Still going to Redeemer Church. That's cool. Nothing sad there except that I wish I were really actually for real in the city, instead of a commuter poser. I love that church.
Still in Jersey. It's cold here, and the leaves are pretty. And all my friends are gone or too busy except for Sachau. Other than that, nothing's changed.
Still a bit disillusioned and depressed. BUT my life does not suck. I am not a Syrian refugee or a Ugandan child soldier. I'm doing fine. I love my family and am not in any physically life-threatening condition. I would like life to be interesting and fun and purposeful and people-filled, but those are externals. More than anything in the world, I would love a job. And for all of my best friends to not attend a college where compulsive busyness is the normal lifestyle and not considered a behavioral disorder. Again, externals, because having a job and a full social calendar has never made me happy before.
Still loving God. Hoping in his return. Praying while I wait. Not trying to overdramatize this underemployment phase, but just doing my best to wait well, even when I feel pretty lame or unproductive or unimportant.
Still having to remind myself daily that I AM 20 FREAKING YEARS OLD and I've only been home for barely three months. I do not have to have this figured out...ever. This is not an emergency.
Still learning that humility means having nothing to offer...which is great, because I am running on empty of the dynamic personality, oodles of talent, popularity, wisdom and energy that I've been lying to myself about having up til now. Learning to let go of my shame of having a disappointing life that weirdly inhibits me from wanting to reach out and love people out of my own lameness.
Still trying to ignore my unhelpful inner self-commentary as I fail and fail again. Being okay with not being a big deal. Not needing my life to be a movie, or for it to look like the lives of peers who have graduated from the same college as me. I am owed nothing.
Still here. Still alive. Still wondering. Still waiting. Still okay.
This will all make sense later, right?
No comments:
Post a Comment