Friday, October 19, 2007

A Prayer

Written in Boredom, at an Undisclosed Workplace.

Dear Lord,
I pray
for those with Little Enough To Do
At work, at home, at school,
or just stuck in traffic somewhere.
Lest they Get Up To Something,
gossip or slander,
kicking the back of Mom's seat,
screaming, or napping
where the boss will catch them,
or just long enough that they won't be able to sleep tonight,
building catapults out of office supplies,
or surfing the web until their eyes cross.
Give them something to Do, O Lord,
not something too hard (unless they're that bored),
something kinda fun or amusing or
at least interesting,
something useful, maybe even helpful,
so that not only are they not Bored Now
(at least for a while,
grant us this, O Lord!)
But at the end of the day they can,
look back upon their day and say, hey,
that was a good piece of work, there,
I'm glad I got that done,
kind of a tough job but boy,
how often do you feel that good about a day at work?
Perhaps even
(if we've been especially good or there's just
something that really needs some attention)
let us avoid boredom by being about Your work,
O Lord,
there's plenty enough of it to go around and
well I was kinda bored anyway.
Grant us, dear Lord,
the vision to see when we can do
just a bit of Your work
the attention span to notice when maybe
someone needs a helping hand
a smile, a kind word
even a rebuke, because sometimes
that's Your work too
(though I'm much better
at the smiles).
In the name of Your Son,
who was bored at school sometimes too,
I bet,
we pray.

Friday, October 5, 2007

Gnrr. Argh. Bleh.

That Crocs job? I made the mistake of gently pointing out to a coworker that the reason I'd done something wrong (for which she bitched at me quite a bit) was because she'd told me the wrong thing. And now, I am laid off. 'It's our slow season'. Um, yeah, with Christmas coming up, I believe that.

I am left entirely without income. I have effectively no savings and won't be able to pay next month's rent without either a job or borrowing Yet More Money from my credit cards. I keep getting interviews for jobs at the university, and then not getting them (though yes, eventually this will turn around -- it must). Today I filled out a job application at Wal-Mart.

I'm scared.


In other news, it's been a year today since I left the ex. It's been an interesting month or so; I've been reliving a lot of stuff I'd hoped I'd left behind. I'm once again dreaming about being back with him, trapped, like I was; waking up to relief at being in Colorado, safely away.

I have to talk to him. I have to tell him I want a divorce. I have to tell him I want half the Stuff. I look forward to none of this.

I'm thinking about sending him an email. It's a copout, I know. He won't care, though; an email, for him, is as personal as a phone call. And the idea terrifies me much, much less.


Even though I'm terrified, I'm also happy, and quite proud of myself. I've lived a year on my own. I've survived. I have my own place. I keep it pretty clean, and I like how it's arranged and decorated. I've paid all my bills and they're up-to-date. I may be barely scraping by, but I'm surviving.

I've grown so much, done so much I didn't think I was capable of. Learned so much. Gained so much.

I'm so very grateful for the past year. If I had any money, I'd treat myself to an Independence Day dinner out tonight; as it is, since I'm broke and Tim and Ray are off to a party without me, I think I'll treat myself to a good home-cooked meal. Seems more of a treat anyway.


I'm going to kill my computer. KILLS IT I TELLS YOU.


I rode my bike to Tim and Ray's new place Wednesday. Three miles. Then another three miles to the garden and back. Hurting? Yes. But not too bad. I had to ask for a ride home, though. Tomorrow I believe I'll do it again. Eventually (and soon!) I want to get to a point where I'm only using my car if something is out of town, or if I need to carry more than the bike can hold. Gas is expensive, and riding my bike is free.


Calling a halt on looking for a place to live until I have a job. This frightens me but not much for it. Any place that lets me live there without having a job or other source of income is probably not a place I want to live. And if nothing else I can get a storage place for most of my stuff and move me and the cats into Tim's spare room for a bit. Not thrilled with the idea, mind you, but one does what one can with what one has.


Remember that job description on my last post, God? Wouldn't mind one of those right now.