I have a ton of laundry to do; I have heaps of clean and dirty laundry growing on my bedroom floor. Add rabid dust bunnies, dishes, bras and socks strewn all over my apartment to the mix, and what I have is a total mess. I even have beer bottles lining my bath tub. I should take pictures, nah, maybe I won't. Sometimes I like making a mess. I am sure to keep adding to the mess before I get a chance to clean up after myself. The question is whether I will be as thrilled to clean it up.


I am not a fan of Mondays, so this morning it was difficult to drag myself out of bed. Once I was out the door I felt pretty good. I put on energetic music and finished 'waking up' on the drive to work. After a weekend marathon of the three Die Hard movies topped with a viewing of Kill Bill vol 2; combined with the icey cold air that not only pierced my lungs but may have affected my brain,[inlink]theecarey,52[/inlink] made for a very sassy, goofy, and obnoxious Monday morning. My beloved coworkers were beside themselves, the kiddo that I work with, whom my coworkers refer to him as my "son", also seemed to enjoy my mood. The remainder of the day went by pretty well. This evening was quiet: just relaxing, writing, watching tv and eating some dinner.

As for new stuff, I began a new class. I have my absolute favorite professor of all time. I am so excited. The entire class is thrilled with having this teacher again. We spent the first part of class just catching up on our lives and all of us gushing over him. He claims that it is a good personality match; but he was being quite modest. It is primarily a matter of his being a good facilitator, public speaker, motivator and all around brilliant. We had him for our very first class, about a year ago. We still refer to the things he had talked about, that got us thinking and always managed to wrap all the information back around. His teaching us again is perfect timing, as the courses and material had been dragging us down. It has been a long, challenging year, and while we have just 10 months left, we are in need of a fresh approach. He is demanding of us, challenges us, and makes our brains hurt with information; nothing different than any of the other teachers and courses, but the vital difference is that he appeals to our inspirational side. We want to learn, we want the challenge, we want to unlearn and think about things from a different perspective and he facilitates that with finesse.

This past Thursday night was just a great evening of conversation. I am friendly with everyone; both in school and at my job. People know who I am and I make a small effort to be kind. My shy, quiet and slightly reserved nature makes it easy for me to appear aloof and standoffish, so whenever I think about it, I reach out to people. Consider it practice, I suppose. Being shy sucks. Yet throw me in front of a crowd and I am fine. Must be the one on one stuff. Hell, I'm learning. Anyhow, people still like me and my quirks.

So class this past week was exciting for the depth of interactions I had with a few of my classmates, all of whom I have regular contact with on the phone, email, in and outside of class. I also enjoy a good rapport with some of the college administration. Prior to class a few of us engaged in a lively conversation that started off light hearted then turned into a passionate debate then panned out into a great connection. Our dialogue did not center on a particular subject, although politics, religion, peoples mind sets, relationships and lifestyles laid the foundation. It was interesting to experience the difference in perceptions of people that you thought you knew. Having information added to your schema of an individual(s) is amazing. I tend to view the knowledge of learning more about someone as a positive. As I learn more about someone else, I learn more about myself.

That evening was a catalyst for putting some things in my life into perspective. I shared some information about myself beyond the realm that I normally would, and in a group at that. In hindsight, I am surprised at myself yet also proud. Over time, especially in the past year or so, I have been able to share more freely. I attribute these changes to the tail end experience of my back injury, the experience of working where I am at and all that I have learned in my graduate program. Also to a few select people who have had the patience and caring, trusting, confident demeanor that I need for this to happen. Thank you.

I have always used the written means to sort out my thoughts and feelings. It is quite another to articulate them verbally. I still struggle with that, but as with anything else, the more you do it, the easier it becomes. But just talking with these people, these friends of mine, men, women, various ages, backgrounds, was just a good thing. Who knew that such a random conversation could uplift your spirits? I went in with a heavy weight and came out with the burden completely lifted; and I am not even quite sure what that weight was. I have been struggling with various areas of my life. Sometimes it just gets me frantic, on the inside. Hidden. Although I can't determine which area has been bothering me the most. I think a lot about my current place of employment and my pending graduation. I think about how I am not in a position to fully take care of myself, which drives me crazy. It is partly to do with money, it is more to do with feeling lost at times. As is, where the hell am I going? (this is a future journal prompt)

So I work on making things better (through education, networking with organizations, etc) yet all that seems so far away, although it is not far away at all. I am accustomed to doing everything, taking control of my life and systematically doing things to make the changes that I seek. I've lived on my own since I was 19. I initially started off living with a boyfriend. I learned a lot during that time. No regrets. I had some roommates on and off, but found it easier to just pay the bills on my own rather than wonder if they would be able to take care of their share of the responsibilities. Overall, I have been taking care of myself since I was 9. Father out of the picture, sister who, 8 years older, ran away by the age of 16, Mother who worked all the time; three jobs to support us. I saw her on Mondays. I got myself off to school and came home to an empty house. Made my dinner, hated it when my friends could not come out to play. I thought it was entirely normal to do the things I did at such a young age. I stayed out of trouble although I knew just where to find it. However, I did not want to put my mother through the turmoil that my sister did, so I chose to be the "good daughter". Funny, how that bites me in the ass now, in regards to the relationship between my sister and I.

Anyhow, I have done alright for myself. As I have mentioned in other posts, I do not write the things that I do to complain. They are reminders of what I have done, what I have accomplished, what I need to do to be a better person and to help give me direction. And I know that people are in all states of turmoil and that I have fared pretty damn well. No, not complaining. It is when I am feeling lost that I realize I must look to see where I have been in order to figure out where I am going. I plug away, trying to make good choices. I simply do the things that I like to do and I work towards being able to continue to have that freedom to choose what I want out of life. However, I am not as strong as I appear to be. I know this and this is no revelation. Are any of us?

Yet I am capable, intelligent, loyal and am tenacious and driven towards the things, people and situations I care about. Indeed.

What has tweaked my perception is how to handle this seemingly perpetual struggle. I make mistakes, I do and say stupid stuff and sometimes I do not say anything because I am stuck in my head. I am dealing with some of my struggles by letting some of it go, or rather, let it work itself out as it may. Other areas, I can make a decision as to how I want to actively tackle the issue. I haven't an answer, but something has made me feel much better. Things aren't necessarily better, but how I handle them, how I feel them and how I look at them, are somehow better.

The gnawing feeling is not there.

And so, this conversation with my friends prompted me to take a closer look at all those things, of which I am sure to continue to write about.

Good night and take care,
Carey