The Lonely Little Flower

In the movie, "The Brave Little Toaster", there is a scene where the toaster runs into the forest. There he sees one solitary flower, when the flower catches its own reflection in the metal toaster, it momentarily becomes overjoyed at the sight of what it thinks is another flower. However, the toaster runs away, afraid. When the toaster peaks out from his hiding place, he sees that the flower has wilted, broken-hearted that it is now alone.

After watching this movie the other day, I can't seem to get this scene out of my head.

What a great movie, by the way.

God steadily pressed David toward his breaking point, eventually bringing him to surrender. David’s denial needed to give way so he could acknowledge his trouble and start looking again to a power greater than himself, a power rooted in the grace of his loving God. Things had never looked worse for David. Or better.

Stuck.

Sometimes, the need to cry just sneaks up on me. Right now, it's here. I feel so overwhelmed and I think I have a lot of anxiety toward all the changes and challenges coming up in my life in the next few months. It's just so much to take in. It's difficult for me to describe how I feel, because I don't really recognize all the feelings jumping around inside of me. However, I do know that I have way too much on my plate.

Graduate school is hard. It's really, really hard. Right now it is extremely intense, and I just don't have time in my life for it, alongside all the other demands I have, anyway. I am so tired of my job, which is going nowhere. All it is doing is taking up my time that I could be using to pursue other interests or even study for school. I cannot have a life like this. It's not possible. I'm tired of never seeing Matt, and never having time for friends. I'm sick of having to constantly be engaging in school or work, and my upcoming internship (I'm sure will follow as one of the worst parts of my week). I hate this. I hate everything that has to do with school and teaching right now.

All of that would be manageable if I a) had a social life or b) wasn't trying to simultaneously pursue photography. I have so much to think about in my personal life right now, but I haven't had any time to reflect on that because I have been so busy with work and school. Photography has been inching its way further and further into my life, but I feel as though I have to keep pushing it back, because of all the other demands. I just don't feel like I have any choices and I feel so stuck and trapped.

I feel like a broken record going on and on about this kind of stuff. But, I'm starting to feel like a broken soul from the way all of the stress in my life is getting to me. I feel so much pressure everywhere, and I just don't know which way to turn anymore. I'm just sick about everything.

Tired

I am tired. I really am just tired.

Lately, it just seems as though I spend the majority of my time playing catch up. By the way, I'm not good at that game. Not at all, really. Financially, I can't seem to get ahead. Each week, I try so hard to scrimp and save my money in the hopes of one day affording a new camera, however something always steps in my way. For instance, my car. My car has cost me about $1,200 in the last nine months, and today the power steering quit working. I cried. Not because my arms couldn't handle the strength training of the turns (though I do feel more buff because of it), but because it's just another few hundred dollars that will not be going toward my ever shrinking camera fund.

The catch up game tends to find me in all aspects of life. Another place I haven't quite mastered the game is in my schoolwork. This one I can pretty easily attribute to myself, as I procrastinate like nobody's business. This procrastination translates into more and more catching up and eventually I really don't even care anymore.

I guess all of it really reflects on my (very weak) ability to handle things. Simply put: I can't handle things. When the situation gets out of control, I get out of the situation. Exhaustion, impatience, and frustration just do me in. I guess I'm not the strongest piece of plywood (that is honestly the worst analogy ever, and I hope I made it up, because I wouldn't want anyone else to have ever tried to pass that off as creativity).

Anyway, life goes on.

Well, this was about the whiniest post ever. Hopefully, everyone else is having a great day. Maybe tomorrow I will have something better and more fun to write about. Until then, au revoir.

"Well, congratulations, Dad." That was all she had to say, all she could say before her throat tightened and her eyes welled up with tears. She listened carefully as he told her the details. Four months. Maximum. Soon her closest family, all of them, would be 2,000 miles away.

After she hung up the phone, she lay silently on the cold floor. Tears rolled down her cheeks. She had known this was coming. She was prepared, she thought. But she wasn't. Again, she became choked up. At 24 years old, she thought she didn't need her parents. How close was she to her brother anyway? At that moment, she realized how much her family meant to her. She wished she could stop them, but she couldn't.

No going back.

Waiting for a Lightbulb

When do you know when you've found that one thing you could do for the rest of your life? I haven't found it yet. Or maybe I have? I guess I want to have sweeping feeling or moment of enlightenment to tell me I've chosen the right path. Is that not how it works?

Five and a half years ago, I embarked on my trek through higher academia. After one long, but money-saving, year at a community college, I transferred into my bachelor's program. During my sophomore, I tried to find my niche. Spanish, marketing, fashion, communication, psychology, business, speech and hearing science, education--all were considered as possible majors. For a while I ignored the fact that I did eventually need to make a decision. I bebopped around from class to class, each quarter thinking the new classes would eventually be needed for my dream major of the moment. (Regret).

I'm not sure if I felt communication calling my name or I simply panicked and chose, but either way, in the spring of 2007, I declared myself a strategic communication major. Sure, I enjoyed the advertising and public relations class, I actually loved the visual communication and journalism classes, but I never really felt a sense that I was doing what I was meant to do.

After graduating in June 2009, I realized that the prospective employers also suspected me to be a fraud in the communication world. As the numerous applications returned absolutely no response from employers (other than this weird quiz from one recruiting agency), I continued to work in my student position with the university until I had to quit, and by the end of the summer, I was unemployed. Doing the unthinkable, I moved back in with my parents. It really was not a bad experience, and I love my family, but what 23 year old wants to proclaim that they are living with their parents again? I vowed to stay no longer than a year--it became nearly a year and a half, by the way.

After feeling the job market's wrath, I decided I must go back to school. I can't be certain what caused me to believe I was destined to be a teacher, but I convinced myself. After much research, I found a school that allow me to complete my master's and certification online, which was perfect since I had landed a substitute teaching position at a preschool (which, mind you, I could have done back in 2005 when I graduated from high school, but I digress).

Now, almost two years since I found myself standing jobless and hopeless with a bachelor's degree in hand, I feel completely unenthusiastic about my current pursuit. Is the cycle going to start all over again? Do I really want to be an elementary school teacher? Forever--for the rest of my life?

I guess $30,000 in student loan debt later, I have to.

WInter in the Air

Ice storms have been the talk of the town this week. I certainly haven't been immune to the infectious chatter of closings, delays, weather emergencies, and power outages. I spent much of the last few days complaining and muttering about wanting to move to some far off warmer climate. Currently, I would imagine most of the population is wondering when spring will arrive (which according to the clairvoyant groundhog will be sooner rather than later).

Ohio's winter weather is something of a glue that holds us all together though. The complaining, the slipping and sliding, the ice scraping and driveway shoveling--it all brings us closer. We feel as sense of being in this together. In the winter, I notice a sense of community that goes to the wayside during the warmer months. Something about December through March takes us back to simpler times. Neighbors help each other. Families spend more time together. Electric lines down mean more quality time spent with those right in front of you, not the people you can find when surfing the internet.

I find myself complaining about the weather as a means to strike up conversation. Sure, a five minute discussion on how thick the ice on our windshields were isn't much, but it's a start. If blizzards and lack of salt on the roads can start a meaningful relationship, then I say, why not?

While, admittedly, I am yearning for the long summer days, I cannot completely disregard what winter brings us. Perhaps, if we can squeeze enough conversation out of the snowfall and slush, come July we can enjoy each other's company again, poolside.

By the way, I try to blog often. I really do. My efforts are fleeting, however. Between work, school, and photography, blogging often gets put off to the side. I am trying my best to write more on this blog. If I am MIA for a few weeks though, don't be surprised. Sometimes, I just don't have much to say.