Before I came to WA, I emailed R&S to ask them if they could please think of productive things for me to do while I was here. I didn't want to be entertained; I wanted to feel like I was helping and doing something worthwhile. Since my life seemed to be a perpetual vacation, I wanted a break from that. And they were very obliging. I've gotten to baby-sit/just play with Elisabeth a lot; teach a R. S. class on how to write a will; and a few other productive things. Best of all, I've gotten to COOK.
Because of her pregnancy, Sofia is on a special diet and, as she explained, is fed up with food. (During the first couple of days of trying to get it down, I understood why.) So, she informed me that if I was interested, I could be the chef while I was here.
It has been awesome! I plan menus and Sofia and I go shopping (including at fun places like the awesome Asian store we visited the other day). As long as it fits the diet, I can pretty much do anything. And then I get to cook. Of course, I have extremely easy to please and appreciative diners (Roland, Elisabeth--have you seen either of them eat? and Sofia and I are pretty easy ourselves). And it's just fun. We've had egg rolls and Greek wraps and ratatouille and vegetable soup and stir fry and a host of other great things. My problem now is that I'm running out of days faster than the meals I've planned (spring rolls, broccoli casserole, mulligatawny soup, minestrone, and the list goes on) .
Being busy and in charge of something (a time consuming something) also makes me enjoy the vacation more. No sitting around being a guest. Nope. I am part of the family. And because it keeps me busy, busy, busy I am happy. Between cooking and helping with Elisabeth, I don't have much time to sit around thinking about what I should do with my time. I wake up in the morning and I have a purpose for being awake. It's fabulous.
Productive = happy. Cooking = very happy. Being the chef = very, very happy. :)
Friday, January 29, 2010
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Going Greyhound
This week I took Greyhound from Rogers, AR to Tacoma, WA.
Don't worry, I've taken the bus across country several times. I'm a pro, actually. And I enjoy it. Trying to sleep at night can be rough (actually, this time the first night was iffy but the second night I slept great, for many long hours), but other than that I like it. I like the people I meet and the experiences of being with a group of people that become united. By the end, as various people that you've been with for well over 24 hours get off at their stops, you wish them well with whatever they're doing there (because you know by now) and feel a little sad to see them go. At least I do. I love that when people care to connect we can so easily love each other. I met some great people this time around, including one awesome lady who became as a good a travel companion as if we'd really come together. I was especially glad she was looking out for me when I had to get off the bus for a 1 hour cleaning stop and I was sound asleep. I think I acted like I was drunk, but she made sure I was okay. I think that's why I like the bus ride, it highlights important life lessons. Most of which I don't have time to write, but the basic one being we need other people in this life. And a wonderful, loving Heavenly Father gives us people in so many ways. I'm grateful!
And now I'm in Washington, enjoying time with my favorite big brother and his "womenfolk." Brushing up on my Spanglish with Elisabeth. Helping Sofia with Relief Society and food and other fun things. And just loving being in a different world and enjoying life.
2 days, 5 hours. 5 buses. 8 bus drivers. Approx. 2500 miles
Approximately 90 lbs of luggage that I had to transfer and lug around several times.
Lots of good times.
Approximately 90 lbs of luggage that I had to transfer and lug around several times.
Lots of good times.
Don't worry, I've taken the bus across country several times. I'm a pro, actually. And I enjoy it. Trying to sleep at night can be rough (actually, this time the first night was iffy but the second night I slept great, for many long hours), but other than that I like it. I like the people I meet and the experiences of being with a group of people that become united. By the end, as various people that you've been with for well over 24 hours get off at their stops, you wish them well with whatever they're doing there (because you know by now) and feel a little sad to see them go. At least I do. I love that when people care to connect we can so easily love each other. I met some great people this time around, including one awesome lady who became as a good a travel companion as if we'd really come together. I was especially glad she was looking out for me when I had to get off the bus for a 1 hour cleaning stop and I was sound asleep. I think I acted like I was drunk, but she made sure I was okay. I think that's why I like the bus ride, it highlights important life lessons. Most of which I don't have time to write, but the basic one being we need other people in this life. And a wonderful, loving Heavenly Father gives us people in so many ways. I'm grateful!
And now I'm in Washington, enjoying time with my favorite big brother and his "womenfolk." Brushing up on my Spanglish with Elisabeth. Helping Sofia with Relief Society and food and other fun things. And just loving being in a different world and enjoying life.
Friday, January 15, 2010
Remembeing What It's About
Earlier this week I had a great day that reminded me why I want a job, why I like being a lawyer, why I like serving people. It was a much needed breath of fresh air.
Part I:
When I left the law office I took a few of my clients with me. One was a young man whose case I worked on extensively this summer (as an assistant to the originally hired attorney). It was completed except for one "minor" detail--the certifcation from a local law enforcement agent or local prosecutor. This can be extremely difficult to get--in fact, the attorney who first had the case had called about getting it and was told, basically, that they don't help immigrants (who cares that he was a victim of a terrible crime and had cooperated extensively in giving testimoney, etc. that led to the perpetrator's arrest).
So, anyway, I took over the case and this week I went to meet the client and his mom. I'd talked to them several times during the summer, but the live a couple of hours away so I wanted to meet them in person. I set up an appointment with them and drove down to meet them. Also in the week or so before, I've been debating pros and cons of various ways of getting the cert--police or prosecutor? Request in person, on phone or via letter? I've even prayed to know the best thing to do. So, went down and met Client and Mom, which was--in and of itself--a wonderful thing. I remembered how very, very much I love working with people. I like meeting new people, I like explaining what's going on, I like speaking Spanish, I like finding out their concerns and working out solutions. I love it!! Next great part. Right at the beginning of our visit, Mom pulls out a letter from an assistant in the prosecutor's office; they'd received it just last week--seems the bad guy is up for review and Client can give victim input. I was thrilled and explained to my clients that I had been praying to know what to do (they already knew we were having troubles with it) and maybe this was the answer to our prayers. After they left I called the person on the letter and asked if she knew the best way and time to approach the head guy (in person? Letter?). She said she'd get back to me. After I left there I went to the police station and tried to talk to the chief. No luck. Too bad, but it was still kind of fun to play attorney.
Fast forward a couple of hours. I got a call from the prosecutor's office. And guess what, she didn't just find out a good time/way to contact him--she told him what I wanted and he said he'd be happy to sign the certification!!!!! It was a beautiful moment. And a happy reminder that I can make a difference in people's lives.
Part II:
Not really on topic, but the next step of a good day. I went to Sister Titsworth's and she fixed my sewing machine. Happy.
Part III:
I went to meet a friend from when I first came to live in Arkansas 4.5 years ago. She lives in Van Buren and coincidentally is a good friend of one of my other clients (one of the few I took with me). We made dinner and my client and her 4 children came over, as well as my friend's grown children who I hadn't met and a couple of other people. It was a big, Spanglish party and was thoroughly fun. We also spoke at length, several of us, about immigration law, the need for good immigration attorneys, etc. (Including a fun conversation with Tammy's son who is getting ready to apply for law school, because (imagine this) he wants to help people (he's watched his mom do it, he believes his religion and he wants to spend his life serving). As I went to bed that night (at Tammy's, because it was way to late to drive back up to Rogers), I reflected on how much I enjoy that world, how I like my life weaving through others' (and vice versa). This is why life is worth it, why continuing to look for a job is worth it. It turns out I wasn't really cut out to be a hermit. :)
Part I:
When I left the law office I took a few of my clients with me. One was a young man whose case I worked on extensively this summer (as an assistant to the originally hired attorney). It was completed except for one "minor" detail--the certifcation from a local law enforcement agent or local prosecutor. This can be extremely difficult to get--in fact, the attorney who first had the case had called about getting it and was told, basically, that they don't help immigrants (who cares that he was a victim of a terrible crime and had cooperated extensively in giving testimoney, etc. that led to the perpetrator's arrest).
So, anyway, I took over the case and this week I went to meet the client and his mom. I'd talked to them several times during the summer, but the live a couple of hours away so I wanted to meet them in person. I set up an appointment with them and drove down to meet them. Also in the week or so before, I've been debating pros and cons of various ways of getting the cert--police or prosecutor? Request in person, on phone or via letter? I've even prayed to know the best thing to do. So, went down and met Client and Mom, which was--in and of itself--a wonderful thing. I remembered how very, very much I love working with people. I like meeting new people, I like explaining what's going on, I like speaking Spanish, I like finding out their concerns and working out solutions. I love it!! Next great part. Right at the beginning of our visit, Mom pulls out a letter from an assistant in the prosecutor's office; they'd received it just last week--seems the bad guy is up for review and Client can give victim input. I was thrilled and explained to my clients that I had been praying to know what to do (they already knew we were having troubles with it) and maybe this was the answer to our prayers. After they left I called the person on the letter and asked if she knew the best way and time to approach the head guy (in person? Letter?). She said she'd get back to me. After I left there I went to the police station and tried to talk to the chief. No luck. Too bad, but it was still kind of fun to play attorney.
Fast forward a couple of hours. I got a call from the prosecutor's office. And guess what, she didn't just find out a good time/way to contact him--she told him what I wanted and he said he'd be happy to sign the certification!!!!! It was a beautiful moment. And a happy reminder that I can make a difference in people's lives.
Part II:
Not really on topic, but the next step of a good day. I went to Sister Titsworth's and she fixed my sewing machine. Happy.
Part III:
I went to meet a friend from when I first came to live in Arkansas 4.5 years ago. She lives in Van Buren and coincidentally is a good friend of one of my other clients (one of the few I took with me). We made dinner and my client and her 4 children came over, as well as my friend's grown children who I hadn't met and a couple of other people. It was a big, Spanglish party and was thoroughly fun. We also spoke at length, several of us, about immigration law, the need for good immigration attorneys, etc. (Including a fun conversation with Tammy's son who is getting ready to apply for law school, because (imagine this) he wants to help people (he's watched his mom do it, he believes his religion and he wants to spend his life serving). As I went to bed that night (at Tammy's, because it was way to late to drive back up to Rogers), I reflected on how much I enjoy that world, how I like my life weaving through others' (and vice versa). This is why life is worth it, why continuing to look for a job is worth it. It turns out I wasn't really cut out to be a hermit. :)
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Miracles
A few weeks ago I was thinking about miracles. That came about because I was thinking about faith, the faith that brings about miracles. That led me to miracles and eventually to the Bible Dictionary passage on miracles. This line stood out to me:
"Miracles should not be regarded as deviations from the ordinary course of nature so much as manifestations of divine or spiritual power."
I've thought about that a lot over the past few weeks. And understanding that, I've seen miracles, many in the divine power that God has put into his creations.
One such miracle is the skin on the back of my left hand. And because pink, new skin is very visible, it reminds me often to be aware of miracles. Miracles that are not necessarily a deviation from the ordinary course of nature but a manifestation of divine power. I believe that all healing is an example of that--because nature alone would cause things to just die, but through the power of Christ's Atonement things have new life. So, my hand. Several weeks ago I was making toast in the office, with the broiler. And I did something my mother has often told me not to, I reached into the oven (instead of pulling the rack out) to flip the toast. Well, my hand hit the element. For a slight fraction of a second, but it was on broil and it broiled my hand. the brown, toasted look immediately spread to cover about 2" wide circle. Before it could hurt I stuck it under water. Water from this spout was so cold that after I'd held my hand there for 3-4 minutes, my hand was numb for over 40 minutes. By that time I'd packed up my laundry and driven to Pam's. When the pain finally started hitting (not excruciating, but still pain) I was at her house and she had sprayed it with a burn spray that had pain killer and aloe in it. I used that a few times in the afternoon and never really had any problem. The most uncomfortable of what looked like a nasty burn actually came a week or so later as it started to heal and itched. Slowly but surely the burn skinned came off and pretty pink, new skin replaced it. Now I have no scar, only a tiny patch of pink were the deepest burn was. Miracle.
Another example of these miracles came with my car. Trying to get it to start again was like a fun science experiment. And science seems to always be a great manifestation of divine power. First, I was trying to figure out why exactly it wasn't starting. Roland told me some tricks to try with alcohol (if the reason it wasn't starting was water in the gas, which water had frozen, then I just needed to wait for water to thaw or evaporate water and not have to take it to mechanic). Well, following Roland's instructions, I put used alcohol to evaporate water and get the car to rev up more than it had been, so I knew that lack of gas was the problem (I realize that my description may not make sense, but if you ever need help, call me and I'll explain). It was really quite fun!
The next part was Father's physics lessons. I assumed that when the temperature got above freezing, my car would be good. Not so, Father told me. "It's a matter of physics." It takes a lot of energy to turn a solid to a liquid. Hmmm, I think I remember that from somewhere back in my education. He said the best bet was to get my car in direct sun as long as possible, so it could get maximum energy and would stand the best chance of melting. On Monday morning I watched my car and thought about that. I already knew that it's position on the north side of the building gave it very few hours of direct light. It was a beautiful, sunny day. Clear blue sky, bright sunshine. Forecast had said it would overcast, but no. I felt it was an answer to a prayer, but my car wasn't getting the full effect. After praying again, I thought for awhile about how faith requires action and miracles require us demonstrating our faith. So, I called my visiting teacher and she and her mom came and they helped me push my car the 15 feet across the way, to be in the sunshine. A few hours later, the power of the sunshine had melted the ice and my car started. I truly believe that this was a miracle--not a deviation from the ordinary course of nature, but God's power, so abundantly manifest in nature, reaching down to help me. I felt that again on Tuesday, the day forcasted to be sunny and bright; it was overcast for hours.
One such miracle is the skin on the back of my left hand. And because pink, new skin is very visible, it reminds me often to be aware of miracles. Miracles that are not necessarily a deviation from the ordinary course of nature but a manifestation of divine power. I believe that all healing is an example of that--because nature alone would cause things to just die, but through the power of Christ's Atonement things have new life. So, my hand. Several weeks ago I was making toast in the office, with the broiler. And I did something my mother has often told me not to, I reached into the oven (instead of pulling the rack out) to flip the toast. Well, my hand hit the element. For a slight fraction of a second, but it was on broil and it broiled my hand. the brown, toasted look immediately spread to cover about 2" wide circle. Before it could hurt I stuck it under water. Water from this spout was so cold that after I'd held my hand there for 3-4 minutes, my hand was numb for over 40 minutes. By that time I'd packed up my laundry and driven to Pam's. When the pain finally started hitting (not excruciating, but still pain) I was at her house and she had sprayed it with a burn spray that had pain killer and aloe in it. I used that a few times in the afternoon and never really had any problem. The most uncomfortable of what looked like a nasty burn actually came a week or so later as it started to heal and itched. Slowly but surely the burn skinned came off and pretty pink, new skin replaced it. Now I have no scar, only a tiny patch of pink were the deepest burn was. Miracle.
Another example of these miracles came with my car. Trying to get it to start again was like a fun science experiment. And science seems to always be a great manifestation of divine power. First, I was trying to figure out why exactly it wasn't starting. Roland told me some tricks to try with alcohol (if the reason it wasn't starting was water in the gas, which water had frozen, then I just needed to wait for water to thaw or evaporate water and not have to take it to mechanic). Well, following Roland's instructions, I put used alcohol to evaporate water and get the car to rev up more than it had been, so I knew that lack of gas was the problem (I realize that my description may not make sense, but if you ever need help, call me and I'll explain). It was really quite fun!
The next part was Father's physics lessons. I assumed that when the temperature got above freezing, my car would be good. Not so, Father told me. "It's a matter of physics." It takes a lot of energy to turn a solid to a liquid. Hmmm, I think I remember that from somewhere back in my education. He said the best bet was to get my car in direct sun as long as possible, so it could get maximum energy and would stand the best chance of melting. On Monday morning I watched my car and thought about that. I already knew that it's position on the north side of the building gave it very few hours of direct light. It was a beautiful, sunny day. Clear blue sky, bright sunshine. Forecast had said it would overcast, but no. I felt it was an answer to a prayer, but my car wasn't getting the full effect. After praying again, I thought for awhile about how faith requires action and miracles require us demonstrating our faith. So, I called my visiting teacher and she and her mom came and they helped me push my car the 15 feet across the way, to be in the sunshine. A few hours later, the power of the sunshine had melted the ice and my car started. I truly believe that this was a miracle--not a deviation from the ordinary course of nature, but God's power, so abundantly manifest in nature, reaching down to help me. I felt that again on Tuesday, the day forcasted to be sunny and bright; it was overcast for hours.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Snappy update
So, I want to write more later but today I am just tooo busy (isn't that how life is!). Just wanted to say thank you to everyone for suggestions, support, etc. (both in comments and email and calls).
Also, my car thawed out and I am mobile again! Hoorah.
Also, my car thawed out and I am mobile again! Hoorah.
Monday, January 11, 2010
Crazy and a Question
I haven't blogged in a few days (except for about Hyrum's call) but that has been for a good reason. I've thought of a million things to write, but I am cognizant of the fact that mostly I want to blog because I'm kind of going crazy and I just want to talk to someone. I have been housebound for way too many days and it's starting to get to me. Last weekend it snowed here (while I was arriving from the south, it was snowing) and then a record long week of freezing weather set in, so that the roads are still a nasty mess of packed ice. (Because they clear them very slowly with their one plow or not at all--because it only snows about once a year, if that.) Anyway, so because of that I didn't go out much last week. I did occassionally and it was always nice. But then on Friday, after a bitter, bitter cold night and an equally cold day (I think the high was 9) my car won't start. Through fun science experiment type antics that Roland coached me through I am sure it's because it's not getting gas, and since I have a full tank, that induces me (and my trusty long distance mechanics) to believe that there is ice in a filter. So, alas. I am really housebound. Oh, not to mention that on the same Friday the door of the apartment where I'm staying would no longer lock from the outside. Or even close. So, I shouldn't really go anywhere anyway. I did get maintenance to fix the door (I knew I would need to leave for church on Sunday), but I still have no car. I've gotten a couple of rides, but I feel uninclined to call up very busy people and ask them if they can give me a ride around town just so I can get out of the house. There would be times when having a whole glorious week+ to stay home would be wonderful. But those times would NOT be after 2+ months of having very little to do. They would NOT be when I'm feeling discouraged and lost because I don't know what I'm doing with my life. They would NOT be when my sewing machine is broken. Etc. You get the point. Well, in case you didn't, the point is, I'm going crazy. And so I shouldn't be blogging. (Doesn't this post verify that for you?)
Anyway, the reason I decided to post this morning was because I wanted to get some other people's opinions. Really, ANYONE who is reading this, I would love to hear what you think. I've talked to a few people here and I know that in the long run it's a choice I'll have to make and pray for help with. But, I'd still like some thoughts from others.
Here's the question, While looking for a real job, should I work at some other low hourly wage job? For example, McDonalds where I have a friend working (younger, paying her way through school) and she would hire me. Or other such things. For me the immediate answer is YES. I have no money. No brainer--do what you have to to survive. But, I've been advised by more than one person to not tie myself down with a job I have to be at, so that I'm available and flexible for looking for jobs. Hmmm. I get that point and it has been nice to be able to go out of town and look, to make phone calls, etc. during business hours, and other such not-tied-down activities. So, what do you think?
Anyway, the reason I decided to post this morning was because I wanted to get some other people's opinions. Really, ANYONE who is reading this, I would love to hear what you think. I've talked to a few people here and I know that in the long run it's a choice I'll have to make and pray for help with. But, I'd still like some thoughts from others.
Here's the question, While looking for a real job, should I work at some other low hourly wage job? For example, McDonalds where I have a friend working (younger, paying her way through school) and she would hire me. Or other such things. For me the immediate answer is YES. I have no money. No brainer--do what you have to to survive. But, I've been advised by more than one person to not tie myself down with a job I have to be at, so that I'm available and flexible for looking for jobs. Hmmm. I get that point and it has been nice to be able to go out of town and look, to make phone calls, etc. during business hours, and other such not-tied-down activities. So, what do you think?
Friday, January 8, 2010
Mission Call!
Another mission call for our family. Hyrum got his call yesterday. He's been assigned to serve in the Nicaragua Managua mission and reports to the MTC on April 15.
It was a nice birthday present for Mother (whose birthday it is today).
My proud big sister moment came when he explained how he knew about Managua, Nicaragua. One summer when I was living at home I "made" the 3 little boys learn the countries and capitals of the Central and South America (then we moved on from there, but those were the best learned). He remembers that one because the capital and country rhyme--apparently that's what I taught him to help him remember. I do remember telling them that they should learn something about the world because, besides the desirable outcome of being more educated, they would probably go on a mission to one of those countries. See.
It was a nice birthday present for Mother (whose birthday it is today).
My proud big sister moment came when he explained how he knew about Managua, Nicaragua. One summer when I was living at home I "made" the 3 little boys learn the countries and capitals of the Central and South America (then we moved on from there, but those were the best learned). He remembers that one because the capital and country rhyme--apparently that's what I taught him to help him remember. I do remember telling them that they should learn something about the world because, besides the desirable outcome of being more educated, they would probably go on a mission to one of those countries. See.
Monday, January 4, 2010
Christmas News
The best Christmas gifts in our family this year were non-tangibles. (Although I do love my new letter-opener and car antenna.) Besides all the great times together and the caroling and all, the following great things happened/were announced:
* On Wednesday, Dec. 23 Hyrum's stake president in Wyoming called Mother and (in addition to asking for information) informed her that Hyrum's mission papers are in! Yea!!!
* On Saturday, January 2, 2010 Hyrum was ordained an Elder. (Will make it brief, but must say that I am so grateful that the Priesthood of God has been restored to the earth. Watching my father lay his hands on Hyrum's head and, under proper authority, confer the Melchezidek priesthood on him was very special. That process can be traced back from Father, through several other men, to Joseph Smith, then to Peter, James and John, and ultimately to Jesus Christ himself. Wow. And the effects of the priesthood power in my own life are too real and plentiful to have any doubt about its reality.)
* For Christmas, Elisabeth informed "Grandmother" that she is having a baby sister in April. We also got a Christmas card with a "picture" of Baby Checketts' head. We are SOOOO excited. Any grandchild would be soo exciting, but this is especially so because--as most of you probably know--for R&S having children is not an easy process. It has taken lots of prayers, fasting, doctors, money, diets, procedures, years, etc. So we're extra grateful for Baby 2 for their family.
Life is good and I'm grateful for my family and the gospel.
* On Wednesday, Dec. 23 Hyrum's stake president in Wyoming called Mother and (in addition to asking for information) informed her that Hyrum's mission papers are in! Yea!!!
* On Saturday, January 2, 2010 Hyrum was ordained an Elder. (Will make it brief, but must say that I am so grateful that the Priesthood of God has been restored to the earth. Watching my father lay his hands on Hyrum's head and, under proper authority, confer the Melchezidek priesthood on him was very special. That process can be traced back from Father, through several other men, to Joseph Smith, then to Peter, James and John, and ultimately to Jesus Christ himself. Wow. And the effects of the priesthood power in my own life are too real and plentiful to have any doubt about its reality.)
* For Christmas, Elisabeth informed "Grandmother" that she is having a baby sister in April. We also got a Christmas card with a "picture" of Baby Checketts' head. We are SOOOO excited. Any grandchild would be soo exciting, but this is especially so because--as most of you probably know--for R&S having children is not an easy process. It has taken lots of prayers, fasting, doctors, money, diets, procedures, years, etc. So we're extra grateful for Baby 2 for their family.
Life is good and I'm grateful for my family and the gospel.
Hitting the mud puddle
Once upon a time (between ages of 12-15--I know because of where we lived) I was asked to give a talk about goals. I shared the following quote that I'd heard somewhere: "It's better to aim for the stars and miss than to aim for a mud puddle and make it." Last Sunday Rachel brought the quote up and mentioned remembering it many times since that talk. I thought it was rather ironic that she brought it up then, because I'd spent the last couple of weeks thinking about what I'm about to relate.
All my growing up years people wanted to know what I wanted to be when I grew up. I'm sure that's true for most everyone in the whole world. Only, unlike many people, I never had any idea. I rotated through a bunch of different things--mostly, to have something to tell people. And in part because I like having a goal to work toward, so I learned about various different things. Some I remember were librarian, music teacher, forensic scientist, marine biologist, writer, hmm, I don't remember what else. I still want to be a waitress. Anyway, you get the picture. I've never really known (still don't) and it really bothered me that people asked all the time and I didn't have a good answer. I think I got extra pressure because I was "smart" and so classmates, teachers, church people, etc. saw in me the potential for becoming something more than the average. (I can't even count the times I was told that I should be a judge or a neuroscientist or just a plain lawyer or doctor or something more exoctic but equally pretigious and smart. I don't remember anybody suggesting I work for the local factory or waitressing, though that seemed to be fine for everyone else.)
Anyway, all in all, I got tired of it. Especially of not having any real idea what I wanted. So by my junior year of high school, through graduation, I started telling people that I wanted to be a bum. Not a specialized bum, like a beach bum or anything. Just a plain, regular bum. I'd actually forgotten about this until a couple of years ago when I heard my equally talented, intelligent, clearly-above-average brother tell some people this shortly after his graduation. I realized how bad it sounded and felt a little guilty, knowing he'd learned that from me. But I could also empathize with his need to gibbly put people off; with a stellar academic background, a nice athletic career, a well-rounded personality and background people expected great things and, since he didn't have a clue what he wanted to do, the pressure is about more than one motivated person can handle. Yes, I remember the answer well. "So, what are you planning to be when you grow up." "I think I'll just be a bum."
And all of this came back to me a couple of weeks ago when I was thinking about what I'd done in the past few weeks. I've done a lot of random things (most of them good things). I've caught up on about 10 years of the 20 years of sleep deprivation. I've looked for jobs and spent enormous amounts of time trying to figure out what kind of job I want. I've done a lot of service and things for other people. Etc. Etc. But, when all was said and done, if I had to summarize the past several weeks, I'd have to say that I feel like I've been a bum.
All my growing up years people wanted to know what I wanted to be when I grew up. I'm sure that's true for most everyone in the whole world. Only, unlike many people, I never had any idea. I rotated through a bunch of different things--mostly, to have something to tell people. And in part because I like having a goal to work toward, so I learned about various different things. Some I remember were librarian, music teacher, forensic scientist, marine biologist, writer, hmm, I don't remember what else. I still want to be a waitress. Anyway, you get the picture. I've never really known (still don't) and it really bothered me that people asked all the time and I didn't have a good answer. I think I got extra pressure because I was "smart" and so classmates, teachers, church people, etc. saw in me the potential for becoming something more than the average. (I can't even count the times I was told that I should be a judge or a neuroscientist or just a plain lawyer or doctor or something more exoctic but equally pretigious and smart. I don't remember anybody suggesting I work for the local factory or waitressing, though that seemed to be fine for everyone else.)
Anyway, all in all, I got tired of it. Especially of not having any real idea what I wanted. So by my junior year of high school, through graduation, I started telling people that I wanted to be a bum. Not a specialized bum, like a beach bum or anything. Just a plain, regular bum. I'd actually forgotten about this until a couple of years ago when I heard my equally talented, intelligent, clearly-above-average brother tell some people this shortly after his graduation. I realized how bad it sounded and felt a little guilty, knowing he'd learned that from me. But I could also empathize with his need to gibbly put people off; with a stellar academic background, a nice athletic career, a well-rounded personality and background people expected great things and, since he didn't have a clue what he wanted to do, the pressure is about more than one motivated person can handle. Yes, I remember the answer well. "So, what are you planning to be when you grow up." "I think I'll just be a bum."
And all of this came back to me a couple of weeks ago when I was thinking about what I'd done in the past few weeks. I've done a lot of random things (most of them good things). I've caught up on about 10 years of the 20 years of sleep deprivation. I've looked for jobs and spent enormous amounts of time trying to figure out what kind of job I want. I've done a lot of service and things for other people. Etc. Etc. But, when all was said and done, if I had to summarize the past several weeks, I'd have to say that I feel like I've been a bum.
I've hit the mud puddle straight on.
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