It’s taken me a while to figure out what to do with this blog, now that I have grown up (I didn’t want to, only, I just turned 25. While there are many a thing that I still haven’t done that I think would officially make me “grown,” I’ve covered enough of the biggies to be considered such by most of society). But, as I’m still having misadventures and struggles with this whole “adulthood” thing, I see no reason not to continue on.
I have encountered many new adult struggles since I last updated–the loss of my stepfather, getting hired as a permanent employee on my job, the first car accident I was in where I was driving and the car was mine, student loan bills, overdraft fees, relationship woes and the love rollercoaster, conflicts with my aunt, an ill aunt, exercising, and so much more.
At the moment, I am sitting in my apartment in a slothfulness that has to end. My entire apartment needs cleaning. I also need to get my printer set up and start writing again. I have bills to pay and things to buy, but I’m not very motivated. It’s not my intention to be deep at the moment but to be real–sorry.
My lack of motivation may come from my lack of happiness. I know that one shouldn’t be put off by things not going according to plan, that you have to go through some things to get to the really worthwhile things in life, that all that will live godly must suffer persecution, but some days the practical and spiritual reasons just don’t work. I want an Oasis in the desert sometimes; how else am I supposed to keep my moral up?
Take my job for instance. I was hired on as a permanent employee in June of last year, after working for seven months as a temporary employee. I was hired into one department in which, it seemed to me, I would have a pretty defined career path. I finally finished the project I had been hired as a temporary employee to do, and they sent me to another department, basically to do the same project there. This was around the beginning of October; I haven’t been in my department since. Never mind trying to advance–I have to get back to the job/role they hired me for, and learn it, and do it, before I could ever think to move up and make more money. The only problem is, I may go to another department after this one to do THE SAME JOB. Another lateral move, one from which I cannot move up, because that’s not my department.
Today (March 19th, in case I don’t finish posting until tomorrow), has been a very bad day. My stepfather died a year ago today, and my mother called me yesterday to tell me that one of my aunt’s was rushed to the hospital. They thought it was a stroke or a brain aneurysm, they couldn’t tell. Apparently, she was getting up to call my mom to wish her a happy birthday. It was a blood clot in her brain. Her brain had swelled. they were sedating her, waiting for the swelling to go down before they could remove it, when I last got a call from home. When my mother asked me what I was doing, I flashed back to last year and getting the phone call, then around 6 or 7 on a Thursday, that my stepfather had passed away.
My mother and I share a characteristic that most people don’t recognize immediately. My mother looks rather hard and mean, intimidating–or so I’ve been told. In certain situations, my mother can be those things. But my mother is really a sensitive person. People look at me and think I am always happy, that nothing ever gets me down, that I’m always smiling. I’m not; I have fat cheeks and sparkly eyes, a high voice and a generally good disposition, but mostly it’s outside effects. Sometimes things irritate me, anger me, sadden me–I just don’t really have all the bells and whistles to show it, which makes it difficult for people to take me seriously or to believe that I empathise with their pain and struggle; they think I’m laughing at them sometimes. It’s not very fun (or funny) not to be taken seriously (ask the boy who cried wolf).
My mother’s voice is that way. When she called me a year ago, she tried to inject some grave seriousness in her voice, but to an untrained ear, she sounded like a gossipy, nosy busybody passing on a good piece of “you won’t believe what I heard.” She has a very conversational tone that makes the bad news hit you doubly hard because you really weren’t expecting it. The only indication will be that she may speak faster and a bit more clipped when she asks what you are doing, but she also does that when she has some gossip or “news” she wants to pass along, you know, to get the pleasantries out of the way.
I was hoping for better news about my aunt, but I have no idea what news would be better–would a stroke have been better? Don’t know. Meanwhile, all of this reminded me I need to make my own doctor’s appointments. I looked up aneurysm for this post, and now I’m convinced I have an unruptured one. That’s why I hate looking things up online, you always have some of the symptoms–ugh. I’ve been having a few minor maladies, but I haven’t had a physical in years and haven’t ever been to the gynecologist, so it’s more than time I went in.
That’s enough grown woman things for right now. I’ll talk body and boys another day.