Stream of Unconscious

Often I wake in the middle of the night with thoughts and visions that must be written. A lot of it may seem like mere rambling, but I am a born writer; I need to see what happens to my words once they stare back at me from the pages of my computer screen. Since I am ususally more than half-asleep when this happens, I jokingly entitled the original document: "Stream of Unconscious." Now that I am finally starting to publish in a blog (as so many people have suggested I should do!), I thought the title remained appropriate.

Friday, August 10, 2007

This is Where We Used to Live

This should be my last day in the old apartment. I'm sitting on the floor, because there's no furniture left, and I just remembered that I didn't bring the vacuum from the Chattanooga apartment. *sigh* I moved the last official load yesterday; today's just for clean-up, and grabbing the last little scraps. I may see what I can salvage from the refridgerator as well.

But I guess you could say that life is getting back to good again. I need to stop posting when I'm miserable, because that's not the only thing I'm feeling these days. It's just been really hard lately, in just about every area of my life, and I've never had much of a talent for coping. Still, here I am, leaving behind another stage of life and stepping out into another unknown. I'm looking forward to the new friends I'm bound to make, and new experiences I'm bound to get caught up in.

The next step, for sure, is finding a better job. People have been pressuring me to pick a career, but I'm thinking I may just look for a full-time, better paying, closer-to-the-new-place job, and see what happens. The truth is, other than writing, I don't really want to have a career. My main goal is to not get behind on my bills and eventually pay off my student loans. I'm still not opposed to grad school, but I'll have to see if I can afford it. So tempting, though. I hate deadlines with a passion, but I'm also not good at motivating myself to do anything unless I have an assignment, so it's a Catch-22.

I wish I could be one of those people who believes that God has something very specific planned for your life, and that as long as you're not choosing to live in sin, He'll lead you along the path He chose for you -- but I'm not. I think we are given opportunities, and sometimes no opportunities at all, and whatever you choose, there will be good and bad in it, and you have to choose how you bear the burdens of life no matter what. I hate it that way, but in my experience, that's the way things are.

I'd love to believe something different. I'd love to just pick a new job, any job, believing that there's a God out there using every choice I make to lead me to something or someone great. I'd love to believe that I'm right on the verge of something that's perfect for me. But I don't believe that anymore. I think I take a big risk trying to find a new job, because I could end up totally hating it and scrambling to find something else, which may in turn be equally awful. Perhaps I have been burned too often in the job search and it has made me cynical.

Whatever the case, I am nervous about searching for a job. I know I don't interview well. I have confidence issues. I don't know what I'd be good at. I'm afraid of getting involved in something and then letting people down, etc. It's all a major struggle for me. But I guess I have to just do it anyway and hope for the best.

I've got a lot to do, so I may write more later. This one wasn't so depressing... just honest! =]

By the way, I've had that "Barenakedladies" song in my head all day... "Broke into the old apartment... this is where we used to live..."

Man, 90's music was good.

Saturday, August 4, 2007

Chaos

I've never been good at handling the in-between stages of life. For instance: moving. I'm terrible at it. I get completely emotionally overwhelmed, and that is exactly where I am right now. There is chaos at my old apartment, chaos at the new apartment, and because it's tax-free weekend, even more chaos at work. I'm completely broke because of all the deposits and start-up fees and whatnot, but I need to buy groceries at the new place so I'm not eating out all the time. Needless to say, I'm not doing so well.

It's an hour drive between my apartments, and I've just been loading up my Honda and taking load after load. I've spent a lot of money in gas, but in some ways it's worth it, because that is the only peace I get during the day... that hour of solitude before getting or dropping off another load of my crap. Today I just broke down completely, and cried nearly the entire hour to the old apartment.

And they say these are the best days of my life. In that case, my only hope is that I die young! At least then I wouldn't have to waste my time at a job I hate, when all I really want to do is write.

Does it ever get better than this?