Friday, October 4, 2013

Wherein I update the reader on my life, complain a little, and count a few of my blessings.

Things started getting busy at work, and for some reason that pushes things like my blog to the back-burner. I'm even too tired and distracted to do a lot of crocheting when I get home. "But, Sarah! You love to crochet! How can you ever be too tired?" I KNOW!

I won't go in to any kind of detail about the insanity that is my workplace at the moment. Suffice it to say, this Fall was the worst semester start-up I've ever experienced. Thinking about it makes me tired all over again. And not just tired: frustrated, cranky, and on the verge of tears. It was awful. It's over now and we're finally caught up, so I'm starting to feel a little more human at work, so that's good. I'm now able to focus on learning my new responsibilities (oh yeah, I've "moved up" in the world of financial aid to the position of Default Prevention Manager... I may have forgotten to mention that to some of you... Mom and Dad in particular. haha oops). So I'm doing a lot of reading about my new job: things I should know, how to format certain reports, which students to contact and when, etc. It's interesting, believe it or not.

When we were in the "new member" meeting the first week we attended our new ward, the bishopric asked, almost in desperation, if anyone had musical abilities, specifically if anyone played the piano. Jana and Tana pointed at me. I've been called to the music committee. Right now, that just means I'm kind of floating, doing whatever our chairperson asks me to do, whether waiving my arm or playing piano/organ. I actually love being on the music committee in any ward. I love the hymns, I love to sing, I love to play, so bring it on.

As for my what's happening in my personal life, there's not much to report. I've actually been on more dates recently than I have probably in my whole life up to this point. No, I'm not being hyperbolic. It's the truth. I've met some guys and have actually gone on dates with them. I know, hard to believe. This perma-single has been dating. The waters have moved back to stagnant again, but hey, for a couple of months, I was going on dates. As was made somewhat obvious by the paragraph above, I've moved again. Just across town, so still in Provo. And I moved in with Jana and Tana, so that's also new and fun. I've made some new friends recently--trying to be more outgoing and actually talk to people rather than living in my little shell. It's hard for me to put myself out there, but I'm doing it.

Really, what I'm trying to do with this blog post today is fight back the depression that's creeping into my heart right now. I know, not the cheeriest of thoughts. I turned 31 a couple of weeks ago. I usually enjoy my birthday: I love the attention, love celebrating with family and friends. I got to play with an adorable puppy named Coach for a couple of hours, which was pretty much the best thing ever. (Isn't he cute?! See, even though this part of the post is less-than-happy, at least you get to see a cute puppy held up by the cute Tana.) I talked with my parents, received texts and Facebook greetings from lots of wonderful people. And though my birthdays don't usually make me think about my age or how much I'm missing, this year was different. Coach was only a distraction for those couple of hours we played. The rest of the day, as well as the days before and the days after, I kept thinking about the things I don't have. Getting older and still being alone, feeling stuck in this perpetual state of singlehood... Going on dates, getting to know different men, and having it lead to nothing... Don't get me wrong. I'm having fun. I'm single and fancy-free. I love that I'm not tied down: if a friend calls and says, "Hey, let's go do this thing right this minute," I can hop in my car and go do this thing right this minute. I love that I can spend my money how I choose without needing to check with a spouse to make sure it will fit in the budget. I love that if the baby I'm holding starts to cry, I can pass him along to his mother. But when it's over and I go home to an empty bed, it's a giant punctuation mark signaling that I'm alone. Sometimes it's just a comma, and I feel like it's only a pause and soon I'll be moving along. Sometimes it's a period, and if feels final and it's not so bad because life is good. But recently it's been an exclamation mark, yelling at me from every direction that I'm alone and I'll be alone forever!

Also, I'm stuck in a job that, though most of the time is interesting and keeps me busy and makes me stretch my brain muscles, sometimes feels overwhelming and I don't love it, and shouldn't I be doing something I feel more passionate about? Shouldn't I feel good about going to work, instead of sometimes dreading it? (Again, it's not a bad job... maybe it's just not for me?) I keep thinking, in the way back of my mind, that I should go to (shudder) grad school, but I dismiss it because I really didn't like school the first time around (high school) and I didn't like it the second time around (Associate's) and I didn't like it the third time around (Bachelor's), so why put myself through (shudder) grad school? But if I don't, will I be able to find something that pays decently and will be something I enjoy rather than tolerate? I'm stuck.

So, let's count my blessings, yes? Maybe it'll make me feel better?
I'm alive.
I'm healthy.
I have an education and a job and a house and food and clothes and shoes.
My family loves me, no matter what.
My friends think I'm kinda fun to have around.
I have a car--a freedom in and of itself.
I have a smartphone--endless hours of entertainment, plus the ability to communicate.
I have talents that I love to share, and I hope they enrich other lives as well as my own.
While I may sleep alone, I don't live alone--it's nice to have roommates again.
I have a limited understanding of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, and through it I believe I have a Heavenly Father and Mother who love me and want the best for me, a Savior who atoned for me, and a Guide to help me.

Really, what more do I need? (Pizza.)