a glimpse

Apparently I don’t adapt to change well. I’d like to think that I do, but in reality, it kind of scares and/or upsets me. I’d prefer (as would I think most people) for things to remain somewhat stagnant; for people to remain in my life, etc. . . That being said, there have been some changes with people in my life,  and it has put me in kind of a funk. I’ve been feeling a sense of abandonment from my close male friends, and while I realize that change is necessary and good, it’s hard for me to not resent growing up and people moving on.

I understand that people are placed in your life for a reason, and more importantly, for a season. I get that. I really do. I just wish that when people moved on, when you aren’t close friends anymore, that it didn’t hurt so bad. I wish that it didn’t feel like our entire friendship had been a pretense, and that when it came down to it, other people are more important.

As I was laying on the couch in my room (yes, I have a couch in my bedroom), feeling particularly resentful of a situation in which I had inadvertently placed myself in, I was kicking myself for trying so hard to remain friends with people who, in my mind, obviously don’t feel the same way about me that I feel about them. I was contemplating my friendships, and attempting to ascertain what course of action I should pursue next when I had a small revelation. It wasn’t particularly new information, or groundbreaking, but more a change in perspective that has changed my outlook.

I am someone, a friend, who can be counted on. My friends love me and need me. It doesn’t matter that we haven’t talked in a year. The important part is that when something happens, when they just need a shoulder to lean on and a listening ear, I can be that person for them. More than effusions of love and gratitude, the mere fact that my friends trust me enough to confide in me speaks volumes of their appreciation and affection.

As I thought about this some more, I thought about how easy it is to view things in a negative light. Nothing changed tonight, except for my perspective and attitude. I am grateful to have friends that count on me. It’s nice to be needed.

I’m going to admit to one of my fatal flaws. Impatience. I don’t like waiting for things. I especially don’t like being stagnant waiting for things. If I have to wait, I’d much rather have something to do so that I don’t think about whatever it is I’m waiting for. I just hate it, and I know that I hate it, and I suppose someday I’ll have to learn how to be patient in all aspects of my life, but it doesn’t mean I’m going to enjoy it.

For example, I was waiting in the airport last week to fly home. Well, to fly back to where I live. I guess you could call it home. That’s besides the point, so I get to the airport 90 minutes before my flight is supposed to leave. That’s pretty standard. They starting board 20-30 minutes before the departure time, and you want to make sure you get through the massive amounts of people who are checking their luggage (which now costs money?!?!?)  and then go through security, so 90 minutes is totally legit. I get to the airport, get checked in, go through security, get stopped by security because I have a laptop in my bag and apparently that’s a bad thing, get through security, grab a cup of hot chocolate, find my terminal and sit down. All good so far. Well, the boarding time which is oh-so-clearly printed on the boarding ticket rolls around and there is no indication from the airline employees that we’ll start boarding the plane. Departure time rolls around, and still nothing. I’m getting a little irritated at this point because they should at LEAST say something to the full-plane’s-worth of people sitting in the terminal. About 20 minutes after the original scheduled departure time, the attendant at the desk tells us there is an electrical problem, and that we won’t be able to fly until they get it resolved. She also includes that she has no idea when that will be, she’s sorry for our wait, and please will we not wander too far away in case they fix it and start boarding.

Great, so I’m sitting in the terminal for an indefinite amount of time for an undetermined reason. This is really awesome. I start to read. Other people around me (like this SUPER annoying lady and her family) start to get agitated and keep going up to the desk to see what the status of the flight is or if they can get on another flight. I was surprisingly calm. Not pleased with the situation, but I knew that I’d rather be safe flying than take off with an unspecified problem and crash somewhere over New Mexico where they would never find our bodies. I read, and 100 pages later (which isn’t really an indication of time because normally I’m a fast reader, but I’m having a hard time with this particular book, so it’s taking me longer to read it), we still hadn’t boarded. 3 hours go by, and it’s beginning to look like I should just leave the airport and walk home. It would probably be faster. BUT. . . they decide to let us board the plane, which seems like a miracle after sitting in the terminal for ages. We get on the plane, prepare for take off, and taxi on the runway for AN HOUR. Luckily, the flight wasn’t full any more, and I wasn’t sitting next to anyone, so I curled up on the seat and tried to fall asleep. But seriously 4 hours later we were in the air.

This is all well and good for the story. We finally take off. But so many people (including myself) had a connecting flight in Dallas that we missed due to this “unidentified electrical error.” So in Dallas I have to try to get my flight switched. Luckily, the lady on the other end of the rebooking phone was super nice and efficient. She got me on another flight, apologized about my delay, told me where the gate was, and assured me that I would arrive at my final destination by the end of the evening (which is good because I REALLY didn’t want to pay for a hotel).  I only had to stay in Dallas for 75 minutes, tops. I truly was grateful that there was another flight that left so soon. So I finally get home, wait around for my baggage, and then get to leave the airport and go home. All in all, I left the house at 9 am that morning, and got home at 1:15 am the next morning (if you figure the time zone difference, I actually got home at 11:15 pm, but that would have meant that I left at 7 am).  But I was “en route” for 14 hours. That makes for a pretty long day when you were only figuring to be traveling for 5 hours max.

I think the lesson I was supposed to learn was patience. Like I said, I was surprisingly calm. I didn’t pace, or get angry with anyone. I didn’t even yell at super-annoying-lady who wanted the airline to fly her straight to LA because she had a delay. Ha, like that’s going to happen. Nope, I was calm. I had the resigned air of someone who knows that fate is against her on that particular day and doesn’t have the energy to fight it.

But my point is, although writing this experience out has been vexing, and making me irritated at my experience all over again, it’s important to be patient, which I am not. I hate finishing up all my tasks at work and having to wait for the next manager to come in so I can leave. In fact, the other night, I literally sat by the door, keys in hand so that I could walk out when he got there. I seriously was done with the place and needed to be gone. But I had to wait. I hate waiting for people to call when they say they will, and then they don’t. I hate waiting around for people to reach the same conclusions I’ve already come to, and then we can start doing something now that we’re all on the same page. I just really don’t like waiting.

Maybe part of the problem is our fast-paced, instant gratification society. We have all kinds of short-cuts to make things go faster, more efficiently, easier. That’s not what I want to talk about though. I just need to talk about the fact that I am super impatient and I know it’s flaw that will bring about much unhappiness in my life if I don’t learn how to relax and be, well, patient. I’m trying, I really am. Admittance is the first step to solving the problem. I just wish it didn’t take so long!

Hey y’all.

I started a new blog to foster gospel discussion since my stake cancelled their institute class. If you would like to participate, please feel free to leave comments. I just want to be able to discuss, throw out new ideas. . .basically still be in institute! I’m going to try and post at least once a week (which is a very lofty goal for me).  The address is ldsinstitutediscussion.wordpress.com. Feel free to share with others!

Thanks for reading.

What is it about unresolved issues in our past that we can’t seem to let go?  Why is there an impulsive need to finish things embedded in our heads? Or maybe it’s just me. Maybe I just need to know reasons, and I’ve always been that way. Maybe that should be my new personal goal. Learn how to leave things in the past, and move on. But the thing is, I have moved on.  I have a great apartment, I’m furthering my career in several aspects, and new. . .flirtation if you will, and so many things have changed. So why do I act the way I do?

I feel really stupid right about 30 minutes ago. I just sent a text. Seemingly simple, just a cool quote from a book that I’m currently reading that I thought would be interesting to share and thought provoking. Sometimes it just takes a little food for thought to stimulate great  conversation. But it backfired and elicited a very negative response. I didn’t realize that the desire to remain friends was so repulsive, especially since I didn’t initiate the gesture. I don’t feel that I was out of line, but apparently I was. Maybe subconsciously I meant for it to hurt, to sting and to never let it rest. But that’s petty and rude and I just need to move on I suppose. Maybe I just don’t know. Maybe the thought of losing someone important to me is just too much for me to handle and I don’t know how to deal.

Or maybe today is just a rainy Friday and I was bored. Who knows? All I know is that it has to end. I have to have more self-control or it’s going to explode in my face. All I wanted to do was share something I found really interesting. Now I see that even the simplest of gestures makes me look like an idiot. It’s time to let it go.

Why is it that we get in trouble for saying what we truly think and feel? Why aren’t we free to express our emotions as plainly as we experience them? If I am frustrated, why can’t I go to the source of my frustration, and state what my issue is? Even if it is a person, don’t they realize that their actions are affecting me, even if they don’t intend to or realize it? I don’t understand why the society we have created leaves us so little wiggle room. Back in the day, if you offended another person, you could be challenged to a duel—and that settled it. Either you died, they died, you called a draw and all your problems were dealt with in a timely manner. Ok ok, so maybe death is a super harsh punishment for merely offending someone, but still. Is it better to tip-toe around others, suppress what we are truly thinking and feeling and live life in a self-made torture box that is as close to hell as we are going to get?

Why can’t I just say what I think? If I truly am frustrated, and things really aren’t getting better after a lengthy period of time (to give the other person the benefit of the doubt) then WHY can’t I just tell them? Why are there all these repercussions, such as getting into a fight, making living situations awkward, not speaking to one another, escalating a simple conversation to levels where you say something you’ll regret? Can’t we all just be adults and talk out our problems instead of yelling at one another?

Also, when this sort of thing happens, do I feel like if I could just smack the other person across the face, or get into a fist fight, everything would be ok? Physical violence has never solved anything, but it just comes so naturally. I want to fight dirty. . . and fight hard, and I feel like if I could, I wouldn’t be as frustrated. (Also, I promise I don’t need anger management. . .I never act on these feelings.)

Instead, we are in a stalemate. Neither one willing to admit blame, neither one willing to compromise. It’s making things  a little awkward, and a little bit hard, and I’m tired of it. I stated how I felt, and what was bothering me, and I don’t deserve the awkward there-has-to-be-a-buffer-between-us-at-all-times-or-else-I-just-won’t-say-anything-to-you treatment. Let’s handle this maturely and talk things through. Or else something has to drastically change. . .

Normally I have to have a title before I write. It doesn’t necessarily make sense or even correlate with the topic(s) of my post, but it just makes me feel better about life. Tonight, I have no title. Whatever it is will be just as much a surprise to me as it will be random to you (whoever you are).

I feel strangely listless tonight. Part of me is aching to go back in time, and “relive my glory days” (aka high school), while part of me wants to move forward with my life. I don’t know what it is. Probably a combination of things; stress about work, stress about family, stress about school, recovering from being ill, just general boredom. I just miss the person that I was, and every now and again I get a glimpse of that girl and it makes me profoundly sad. Part of my listlessness might more be homesickness than anything. While I didn’t spend my entire childhood in the South, I feel like it is the one place I truly call home. I grew the most, made the most friends, put down the most roots, and honestly for the first time, fell in love with an actual place. There is no where on Earth that can compare to the South (for me, anyways.) I found the most kind-hearted, genuine, caring people there, and they became my friends and an integral part of my life. They were so accepting and loving, and I try to model myself after them. It makes me ache for home and for the people that I love every time I do something “Southern,” whether it’s watching Nascar, deep-frying something in the kitchen, using odd vocab such as “fixin’ to” or calling everyone ma’am. I get made fun of for my Southern tendencies, but they are a part of me, and I wouldn’t change them for the world.

Maybe part of my listlessness is this overwhelming feeling that there are stressors and aspects in and of my life that I have no control over. I want to change things, but I am powerless to do so. I’m not trying to be Nancy Negative here. I’m not talking about things that I actually could have an impact on if I tried, but things other people do that I can’t change, yet still affect my life.

Maybe I just need a good night’s rest, some decongestants, and a text or two from a cute boy (this part is optional, but it sure would add a little ray of sunshine to my day).  Maybe I just need a vacation home. Maybe I just need to move forward with my life and be content with who I am and what I have. I don’t really know. There aren’t any definitive answers tonight. Like I said, I’m just listless and posturing on potential reasons.

Also, before I say goodnight, I’d like to just say that I think every time I get sick from now on, I’m going to read either The Hobbit or part of  The Lord of the Rings trilogy. It seemed to me to be highly comforting and yet still captured my interest. I don’t know why, or what even motivated me to pick it up this past week, but it was probably the best decision I’ve made all week (except for making Cranberry Chocolate Chip Oatmeal cookies, which were oddly a huge hit.) Or I could always watch Buffy. =)

Sigh. I’m supposed to be getting ready for work. And obviously I’m not. Also, I know I’m totally going to regret being late, especially since the boss is on this new rampage type deal. Came back from vaca, was super upset and started being anal about everything. I mean everything. No leniency. . . anywhere.

But here I sit, in my black scrubs. . .  .wasting time and writing nothing about anything. I’m frustrated by the lack of calmness? in my life. Also frustrated that the chocolate turtle chex mix I bought isn’t nearly as good as I pictured it to be. I wish that things went more smoothly, that my dreams weren’t so off-the-wall realistic and that my family life could be semi-normal. Alas, if wishes were fishes. . .

I just used the word “alas”. . . there must be something wrong with me. Maybe I’m tired? Maybe I got too much sleep? Anyways, I’m off to the land of unimaginable torture . . .work. Also, I’m pulling a back to back again. They have me scheduled to close tonight and open tomorrow which means I am not going to be much fun at all. =) But that’s ok. There’s way too much going on this weekend for me to be angry. Lots of birthday parties and. . .other . . .stuff. Ok. I’m leaving. Bye

I wrote this perfectly brilliant post, but when I clicked published it disappeared. Not in drafts, not in posted posts. . . .just poof. Vanished. Gone. I don’t think I could ever recreate it. Now I’m sad. =( How do things like that happen?

ps- I’m tired of having to work full time while I’m going to school. Then on days when I don’t have either, I spend them doing goodness knows what, trying to clean/organize my room and get my life into some semblance of  functional organization. Gah! This semester might kill me. I’ve been called into work early twice this week (Yep, it’s only Wednesday). They actually want me to leave school and come in, which is just ridiculous. I mean, I come as soon as I can but why should I jeopardize my education for a company that I don’t want to stay with forever? And when do I have time to do homework.

That being said, I’m sure I’ll figure things out. I’m just frustrated this week. And now I’m late for school. Lame.

I never understood how people stay up during the night and sleep during the day. For me, I have to be so exhausted to sleep while it’s light outside, and even then, I wake up to any and every sound around me.  I also find it really hard to be awake during the middle of the night. From 3 to 6-7 ish in the morning, it just doesn’t seem worth it to be awake.

That being said, tonight is my last night in my week of scheduled graveyard shifts. Normally, I’m a “day manager” but one of the grave mgts went on vacation and I was volunteered to work.  I have a really hard time with it. I just want to be in bed, and then when I finally get home at 8 or 9 in the morning, I feel like I should be awake and being productive. The worst part is really the lack of productivity. All I do is sleep and work pretty much.  There’s not much else to my life besides that when I’m working graves.

I’m excited though for tonight to be the last night. I’m excited to be back on a normal sleeping schedule and to be more efficient at my job. I’d rather work during the day. Hooray for sleeping and no more graves. Also, this might be a superfluous post but oh well.