And Then There Was One

I'm the lone single woman on this blog, and that likely won't change any time soon. As the lone single (single lone?), it's hard for me to come up with things to write about that don't sound like complaining or that don't dismiss the struggles of the new parent and new wife on here. However, I've recently figured out that, if I think about it, there are a lot of topics within the overall subject of singleness. I just have to, you know, think about it.

Since there are heavy topics and light topics, and since I'm tired and worried about other things right now, I'll start with a lightish topic: isolation.

Really, isolation could go either way, and can be very heavy, but this recent experience with it is more of a "well, that's how it is" moment than a "oh, I can't do this anymore" moment, if that makes sense. I'm currently serving in the Primary presidency of my ward--we are in charge of the Sunday activities of the children from 18 months to 12 years old, and we also concern ourselves (in a limited way) with their home lives. I am the oldest in this presidency and the only single, childless member. The women with whom I serve have all dealt with weird pregnancy issues--one lost multiples because of a uterine anomaly, one has health issues that prevent her from having anything other than C-section births--and they talk about them. That's fine. I think it's good to talk about these things so others know they're not alone and are prepared for the strange things that can happen. I don't really mind hearing about all the blood tests and appointments that come along with high-risk pregnancies (after all, I'm automatically high-risk just because of age) and I don't mind hearing about all the strange and wonderful things that go along with being a parent.

I just feel out of place when the topic moves that direction. I don't have anything but second-hand experience to contribute, and sometimes I get the feeling that my friends feel a little awkward discussing things to which I can't personally relate. I joke that I pay attention and take notes so I can be a better mom someday, but lately there's the mental undercurrent that I may never get to be a mom and the joke is losing its ability to make me feel better about my situation. One night after a meeting, the three of them started talking about hospitals and obstetricians and I had nothing to contribute to the conversation, so I politely excused myself and left.

Like I said, these moments don't make me despair (most of the time...), but they're still a little new and raw. For years I reasoned that I could deal with them because someday I'd be a mother, but now the impending loss of fertility and introduction of menopause are staring me in the face. Not that I'm going to really hit menopause until I'm in my 50s, but I'm almost 40 and my chances of having a child on my own are very, very slim, even with modern medical technology. No one in my family that I know of has had a child past 35. I don't know what to expect, but I do know the odds are stacked firmly against me and I just have to deal with that like I deal with wrinkles and cellulite. Wrinkles and cellulite are just part of life, and there's not much I can do about them, so I try not to get hung up on them. It's the same thing with being single and almost 40; it's literally a shrug of the shoulders and an "oh, well!" because there's not much I can do about it on my own.

It is what it is, and while it feels odd to be isolated in this way, it's not really disturbing or distressing. Most people don't understand, and that's ok. It's not their fault. This is just how life happens, and you either freak out about it and waste a lot of energy, or recognize that it's out of your hands (for the most part) and shrug and move on.

What's interesting, though, is that I almost feel like isolation bubble is protecting me--it's not unfriendly or threatening or sad, it's just different. And if I can't contribute to a conversation, it's ok to excuse myself and be alone in my bubble for a while.

Trying Harder

It's very early on a Friday morning.  In fact, it's so early that it was Thursday less than an hour ago.  I should be sleeping, but instead I'm worrying about work.  There is so much going through my head that I can't express or even sort out enough to make sense of.  What I know is that I'm so unhappy at work that the thought of going there in a few hours almost makes me cry.  The clearly defined position I accepted last year has turned into one of nebulous responsibility, resulting in frustration, discouragement, and a general anxiety that I'm doing something wrong at any given time.  I very much dislike feeling this way. 

When I took the job, I felt very strongly that it was an answer to many prayers over several months.  Everything happened so quickly--I took all those events as a sign that it was the right direction for me and I should accept whatever they offered.  Several months later, I find myself doubting that decision nearly every day.  I don't know why I'm there, I don't know what my job actually is, and it's starting to wear on me so much that I'm not sleeping well and I dread walking into my building.  Despite my uncertainty and doubt, I definitely know that staying at my previous job would have been very bad for me, so I'm trying to stick it out without complaining.  Another friend is suddenly unemployed, which makes me feel worse for disliking my steady job with good benefits.

I don't even know what to do or how to start feeling better about everything.  I keep looking for other work, but I know my chances at a better job are slim right now.  Unlike the other members of my team, I did not go to school to be in this industry.  I have no desire to get an MBA, and a degree in business administration makes me cringe.  I'm stuck here, though, and I have to figure out parts of my job to like or I'll become even more depressed and anxious about it.

If God wants me to be happy, and He guided me where I am now, why am I so miserable?  Why do I feel like calling in sick all the time?  Why do I fantasize about getting in a car accident or slipping on the icy sidewalk and missing weeks of work?  Why am I told to do a project, but not given enough information to do it correctly, and then get scolded for asking clarifying questions?  Why, when I'm encouraged to ask clarifying questions, do I feel like I'm being punished for "pushing back" when I DO ask them?

I don't understand what's happening, and I wish I could figure it out.  No one likes someone who can't do anything but complain, and I'm afraid I'm turning into a constant complainer.  I feel somehow guilty for feeling like this, but I don't know how to fix it.  I'm praying that I'll find things to be happy about, and that I'll be able to be consistently cheerful and kind no matter what is dumped on me.  It's exhausting, though, and I hope I can figure all of this out soon.  The light at the end of this tunnel is very, very dim right now.

I promise...

Last night I had no fewer than three people ask me if I'm seeing anyone.  It kind of made me laugh, because I know they just want me to be happy and they think I'm worth dating.  I'm usually not offended when people wonder about my love life.  One of them, a dear elderly man, said he couldn't understand why I wasn't married yet.  He said I was attractive, talented, and smart; I smiled and thanked him and told him I would definitely let him know when I started dating someone.

When I get engaged, I want everyone in the world to know it.  I want them to know that it was worth the wait and all the prayers and tears and questions.  I also want them to know that it is better to be single than to be in a rotten relationship.

I want everyone to see my engagement ring.  I know engagement rings have a controversial history, but I want one.  I want a visible symbol of love and commitment, but when it comes down to it, I'll be happy with something very simple like a plain band.  I want to marry someone observant and thoughtful enough to ignore convention and not be pressured into buying a big diamond just because everyone says he has to.  I want to marry someone who wants to buy me pretty things. 

Let's be honest, though, I do want a really sparkly ring.  And I WILL show it off every chance I get.

Dear Santa:

I'm really excited that Christmas is coming up, and I'm looking forward to seeing family and friends and doing things like baking cookies and going to Jinxie's wedding reception.  I love the lights and the food and the music.  I love the story of Christ's birth and the chance we have to celebrate that with a lot of other people.  I like Christmas movies and cheesy TV specials and snowflakes and red and green.  I think everything should be covered in glitter, and there should be snow on the ground for your sleigh.  I feel like Buddy the Elf when I think about Christmas decorations and reindeer!

 

As it is right now, I have a lot of enthusiasm for the season, but I tell you what:  it would be easier to be enthusiastic if I was in a relationship. 

 

I've been a good girl this year, so I hope you bring me what I want.  Say hello to Mrs. Claus and the elves for me!

 

Love, Trixie

Adoration

Speaking of things that hit you sideways, Campbell got married a few months ago.  We'd been good friends for a few years, and then early last year he kind of fell off the planet.  He was there for me when my engagement broke up, and I was there for him when the same thing happened to him.  I always felt safe with him, safe and appreciated, so it was hard when I realized we were never going to get married.  I still wonder why, but I got some clarity talking to his cousin this past spring.  The conversation started out awkwardly but eased up as we went along; she was concerned about how I was taking the news of his engagement and I felt I could trust her, so I told her it had been a little difficult.  She said that she and her husband had wondered why Campbell had never dated me; apparently, he talked about me all the time.  In her words, he adored me.  Why, then, didn't he choose me? 

 

My silent, agonizing question was answered as his cousin went on about his fiancee:  she needed to be rescued.  Campbell's fiancee had been married before, to an abusive and manipulative man, and she needed to be rescued from that trauma.  One thing I know for sure about Campbell is that he would NEVER hurt a woman.  He is incredibly protective--protective to the point of doing violence to another person.  When he found out more details about what my ex-fiance had done, he told me that he was willing to break my ex's nose if he started bothering me again.  Another time, we were talking and when another man walked past and gave me a leer that I didn't notice, Campbell put his arm around me and glared at the guy until he stopped looking at me.  I'm not the biggest fan of violence, but it is nice to feel protected when you're with someone.

 

Campbell needs to be the hero, and Mrs. Campbell needed a hero.  I'm glad she found such a good one.  I don't need anyone to rescue me from a bad situation anymore (although it would be nice if someone out there had an extra $200K to give us), but I really want to be adored by someone.  Adored enough that he wants to be with me and no one else.  Thanks to Campbell, at least I know I'm worthy of that kind of love, loyalty, and respect.

Grateful

I felt at the beginning of this year that some major changes were going to happen in my life.  Now, toward the end, and on a day of gratitude, I can look back and see what they are.  It's been a difficult year in many ways, but I'm grateful for what I've learned.  I'm grateful to be able to look around my neighborhood and see families gathered together in warm houses, the yellow lights in the windows reflecting the sunset.  I'm grateful that, although it has problems and should be replaced soon, my car has a good engine and brakes and is paid for.  I'm grateful I have my own tools.  I'm grateful that I can help my family, both financially and emotionally.  I'm grateful I can pay tithing and know that those funds aren't being abused.  I'm grateful for my soft heart and generous spirit--I cry over animals I've never met, and I always wish I could give more than I can.  I'm grateful for my family.  We don't always get along (my youngest sister isn't talking to my oldest brother right now, and it's hard) but I know that through the sealing power we can be together forever.

Most of all, though, I'm grateful for the constant reminders that my Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ love me and know who I am.  I don't always understand why They want me to do certain things, but I know there are good reasons and if I do those things, I will be blessed.  I'm grateful I can feel God's hand guiding me daily, and that I know Jesus Christ died to redeem me from my sins.

Life is good.

Sideways

I've discovered, in my old age, that there is nothing that can adequately prepare you for being single in your late 30s.  Sure, I know people who went through this and are single in their 60s or 70s, and I'm sure nothing has prepared them for that.  This whole thing is really hard some days.  I got through my 20s single, and maybe I just stopped thinking about how hard it was, how weird it is to hear someone talking about their neice or friend who "got married later, you know, at 26".  Just TRY not to smile a little when you hear that and you're well past 26!  It's not as though you wake up every day and say to yourself, "man, it's going to be hard out there today because I'm single and almost 40!"  You just kind of live your life, and in the course of living your life, you don't really think about how hard it is being single until something blindsides you.

 

For instance, I have friends from high school who are preparing their sons for missions earlier than they thought because of the recent age change that was announced.  These women are my age, and their sons are going to be on missions in a year.  Less than a year, some of them.  I'm old enough to be helping a son prepare, but I don't have a son.  Here's another one:  some of these friends may have grandchildren the same age as my children, if I'm lucky enough to have kids in this life.  Try imagining that when you are 15 years old and thinking about what your future will be like!  One more:  One of my friends was talking about how hard it was to send her youngest child to kindergarten.  I said, "Oh, I might be peri-menopausal when I send my oldest to kindergarten--think about dealing with those hormones!"  We got a good laugh out of that, but it's a definite probability.

 

The other day at the hardware store, I saw a man I was good friends with in high school and during my first stint in college.  I didn't say hello because it completely unnerved me to see him with two small boys.  I knew he was married and was pretty sure he had kids, but seeing him interact with those adorable boys was gut-wrenching for some reason, so I pretty much ran away, unable to talk to him.  It unnerved me so much that I had to pray about WHY I was reacting so vehemently, and then I spent a couple of hours Facebook-stalking him and his wife to find out what their family life was like.  I found out how many kids they have, that she's had some major health problems recently, and that, judging from their family pictures, he loves her more than anything.  I'm sure that next time I see him, I will be able to greet him happily, get to know his kids' names, and tell his wife how much his friendship meant to me when I was younger.

 

After lots of thinking, I've decided the reason I was so freaked out at seeing him is that, at 17, I set him up as the ideal man.  When he got back from his mission and we were in college choir together, he was even more the ideal--kind, generous, smart, talented, grounded, respectful, spiritual, and someone who loved and respected women.  When I think of all the men I've known, only two come to mind as men who truly love and completely respect women.  Aaron is one of them.  After 20 years, he is still an ideal.  Seeing him interact so gently with his boys, and seeing, in pictures, what a fun dad he is and the incredible love he has for his wife, I can't help being happy that they found each other and have such a lovely family.  More than ever, I want to marry someone like him.  I think that's what blindsided me so hard that day; I know what I want, but finding him is getting harder.



Improvement

I keep forgetting to blog, so I'm glad I have a reminder in my calendar for this little project.  I've been thinking about how hard it is for me to find something to talk about on here.  I want to avoid being overly whiny, because there are enough whiny singles blogs out there.  I want to avoid being overly prideful, because there are enough "look at me!" blogs out there.  So, between those two limits, I find myself thinking I don't have much to day.  In my real life, I'm not overly whiny or prideful--I don't complain about being single because, really, there's not much I can do about it (and don't suggest online dating, because I always feel like throwing up just thinking about it) besides keep doing what I'm doing and have faith that everything is happening the way it needs to.  I don't think I'm all that awesome; maybe I have a certain cool factor because I do what I like and buy myself pretty things and don't get all hung up on what people are thinking about me, but I got here after a very long journey through years of depression and self-doubt.

My life is work and family.  The last time I went on a date was when I went to lunch with Ken back in August, and I paid.  I get involved in hobbies and projects, and I flirt when I can, but mostly I try to make people comfortable and happy.  I don't go to work looking for dates (and would NEVER date anyone I've met at my new job--all the single guys are too short or too awkward), I don't go to a singles ward, and I avoid singles activities with all my might.  So I work, I occasionally go to lunch with some of the other women there, and I come home and hang out with my family, or I don't come home and instead work on outisde projects with fun people.  The goal of my social interaction is not to find a husband, but to do something challenging and meet like-minded people.  I'm sure there are people out there who would say I'm wrong to take my focus off husband-hunting, but it feels right to do things that make me happy.  I don't buy into "The Secret" and I refuse to compete with 20-year-olds, so I usually end up doing my own thing and enjoying myself.  In fact, I enjoy my time a lot more when I'm not constantly worried about whether or not someone approves of what I'm doing.  I think God approves, and that's enough for me.

Do I want to get married?  Heck yes I do!  But I'm not going to force anything or anyone.  I've prayed about this, and the answer I almost always get is "hang on, he's coming."  So I do my thing, find happiness in my family and friends, and try to be my best self.  When it's right, it'll happen.  Until then (and probably even after), I'll be looking for a tap dancing class to take.

It's just fine...

Things that I've decided are just fine:

Being annoyed at men my age for dating 20-year-olds

Having lots of pretty nail polish (including black)

Preferring amusing sheets instead of boring solid colors

Being annoyed at single women my age who have given up

Not wearing makeup every day

Watching cartoons

Wanting to have a bright pink bathroom

Liking lamps

Buying things just because they're pretty

Knowing a lot about my car

Being annoyed when I get a runny nose

Peanut butter and Nutella sandwiches

Leftover squash for breakfast...followed by dry cereal

Colored ceilings

Being mad about those 20 extra pounds even though everyone says I don't need to lose weight

Missing the family dog who died over 20 years ago

Not having a problem with Barbie
Having a problem with Bratz dolls

Knowing that my kids might be the same age as my friends' grandkids

Somehow being at peace with my life even though society tells me I shouldn't be

Not worrying too much about getting married.

Older Than You Think I Am

I live with my parents.  I have for a while, for good reasons I won't get into again in this post.  In the ward directory, I am listed separately from them with my own phone number.  People new to the ward might look at the directory and see two parents and two daughters in the same house and, without knowing the situation or meeting us, assume we're in our late teens or early twenties.  It's a fair mistake.  After all, when my siblings and I had moved out or were going to singles wards, a new couple in my parents' ward thought they were childless because they never saw them with children at church!  We all got a kick out of that one.  Again, a fair mistake.

I had an odd moment a couple of months ago:  a new family in our ward called me while I was at work.  I didn't answer because I didn't recognize the number, but I checked my voicemail as I was leaving the building.  It was the father in this new little family, asking me to babysit their two children so he and his wife could attend ward temple night.  He said that some of the young women weren't available and hoped I would be.  I was taken aback.  It's been several years since someone besides family has asked me to watch their kids.  I think the last time I did any babysitting was when I was 19 or 20 and doing overnights so the parents could go on vacation.  It was such an odd question that I didn't even know what to say when I called him back.  I joked with my parents that he couldn't afford my hourly rate, but I really didn't want to embarrass him because I understood that he'd never met me and had no idea how old I was.

When I called him back, I got his voicemail and just said that I hadn't planned on attending ward temple night and that I didn't get home from work until after 5, but that I would be happy to watch his kids if they couldn't find someone else.  I didn't say anything about money because I wouldn't have wanted them to pay me--it would be a service on my part if they wanted me.

I never heard back, and it's never come up in subsequent interactions with them.  I think they figured out that I was a little bit older and it might be weird to ask me to watch their kids.  They're a great couple and their kids are adorable; I'm perfectly willing should they need me.  I don't think they will.

As many experiences like this as I've had, I really shouldn't be disconcerted that people assume I have a lot of free time and don't have a "real" job just because I'm single and live at home...and yet I am always a little taken aback at the assumptions.  I've learned to chuckle at it, help where I can, and be as kind as possible.  It wouldn't be fair of me to assume they know my life.

Please Wear Clothes

I recently finished a project that involved some evening and weekend meetings.  Overall, it was a very positive experience--I got to meet some new people and get reacquainted with others (including my old friend Ken...more about him later)--but one thing really drove me up the wall.  There was one younger woman who came to nearly every meeting in her workout clothes.  I'm not talking sweats and a t-shirt, but full on workout gear:  sports bra, tank top, leggings (more like tights to be worn under something else).  When we started our meetings, she'd take her shoes off, pile her hair on top of her head, and stretch or do push-ups or something every time we had a break.  If her clothing and behavior were appropriate for the situation, or the situation were appropriate for her clothing and behavior, I wouldn't have had a problem with it.  As it was, though, neither was appropriate for the other, and she became a major annoyance to me.

There are only so many times I can handle an attention-seeker saying something like "look how I can touch the floor" while bending over so her leggings/tights stretch and I can very clearly tell she is wearing plaid underwear.  I almost took a picture with my phone and texted it to her so she could see what was happening whenever she moved.  I'm not sure why I didn't.  Maybe to protect what dignity she had left.

I make it a point to be dressed when I leave my house.  I only wear workout clothes in public when I'm actually working out.  I try to look nice even though I don't always wear makeup or jewelry.  I almost always wear my shoes unless I'm very comfortable with the people in my group.  I make VERY sure that my clothes don't show my underwear when I bend over or reach overhead, and I don't buy leggings unless they're opaque or I intend to only wear them under skirts or dresses for warmth.  (I can't quite get behind the recent leggings-as-pants phenomenon, mostly because so many leggings are actually footless tights and don't quite cover what people think they cover.)  I don't understand people who think workout gear is appropriate for every situation--I hardly even take the garbage to the curb in my pajamas, and my neighbors probably wouldn't even care if I did.  I care, though, so I avoid it.

While not technically immodest--it's not as though she was wearing a low-cut thong leotard over tights--this woman's clothing was immodest for the situation.  Her behavior was a worse offender.  There is a time and place to show off, and there is a time and place to loll around on floors, and there is a time and place to go barefoot.  There is rarely a time and place to throw yourself at anything with a Y chromosome, just for attention and validation.

At one of our final meetings, she'd just come from work and looked very nice.  I almost said, "you sure are attractive when you're dressed," but refrained.  It was a relief to find out a few weeks ago that the relationship I feared she was trying to start with Ken hasn't panned out the way she thought it might.  Her immodest ways didn't keep his attention for long, which was nice to know.

It gives me hope that, by not showing everything, I still have a chance to attract a good man.

It Is What It Is

It's been a rough couple of months in my little world.  There have been two funerals in four weeks in my ward--funerals for people I admire and care deeply for, and it's been very difficult.  There have been financial crises and car problems and surprise weight gain and illness.  I've been slightly depressed for weeks, I don't know how I fit into my new job, and I don't wear my favorite clothes there because they could be considered too embellished or decorative for what I'm doing now.  I need to dust my house, I need to clean off my desk, I need to get my car inspected before I get pulled over for having an expired registration.  I need to put my summer clothes away and get out my winter clothes, but that is hard to do when it is 75 degrees on Halloween and I feel uncomfortable wearing my colorful tights to work.

I'm emotionally, mentally, and physically exhausted right now.  I don't feel like myself and I can't figure out if it's my new job or something else that is eating at me.  I enjoy the work, but I don't LOVE it, and sometimes I feel guilty because of that.  But, really, should I be wearing myself out trying to LOVE my job, or should I instead be focused on doing my job well and being reliable?  My boss wants me to LOVE my job, and I don't know how to break it to him that that is probably never going to happen.  Work is something I do to pay the bills.  If I enjoy it (or don't resent it) most of the time, that's great, but I can think of only one job that I'll actually LOVE:  being a wife and mom.  Unfortunately, I don't see myself getting that job any time soon, so I have to keep deflecting my boss's questions about how much I LOVE my job.  I suppose I'll eventually have to have that conversation with him, and he'll tell me that maybe I should be looking for something else to do, and then I'll go home and cry because the things I really want to do aren't exactly easy to get.

That seems like the cycle of my 30s:  make big plans, realize that big plans cost money, remember that I got a non-technical degree, look at grad schools, apply for grad schools, get rejected from grad schools, find a job I don't resent on a daily basis, wonder why I'm slightly depressed, make big plans...

Fortunately, in the midst of all of that, I have a pretty great family and some really great friends.  I even occasionally get to flirt with handsome men and wear my pretty things, so it could be worse.  Like it'll be if I hit my 40s still single and being paid less than I'm worth...

Too much

There have been some pretty big changes in my life recently.  I don't do well with change--I think I've discussed this before--even when the change is ultimately for my own good.  The last several weeks have been particularly difficult:  I unexpectedly got a new job, one of my dearest friends got married and moved away, another friend moved across the country, and a project I lovingly worked on for nearly four months ended.  All in the same week.  It was really rough on me, but I willed myself not to break down even though I cried at my friend's wedding and reception.
Today, I finally lost it.  I've been doing some training in another city for my new job, and, gas prices being what they are, I took the bus and train to get there.  For one reason and another, I missed the last express bus and sobbed in my car because of it. . . and everything else.  I haven't cried like that for a long time, but out it came and there I was, in my car in the station parking lot, crying for all the world to see.  I cried for a good 10 minutes, but managed to pull myself together, make peace with the idea of being nearly an hour late for work, and I got on another bus.

The same bus a distasteful, socially awkward, and (now) unattractive ex-boyfriend was on.  I couldn't avoid him and was angry and annoyed that he was there, sitting next to me, trying to talk about my life.  He annoys me SO MUCH I can't even describe it, but you know how you look at someone you used to date and wonder what in the world possessed you to find him attractive?  Sigh.  I was stuck with him for over an hour and it was a relief to leave him on a street corner and cross to my building, hoping to never see him again.  He makes me gag a little and I'm glad I stopped spending time with him at all.  I mostly did it to be nice, but it wasn't worth it.  I'm upset with myself that I spent so much time with him, hoping maybe he wouldn't annoy me so much, when I could have been with someone I actually like, like a friend or a sister.

It's a good thing my afternoon was much better than my morning, but I'll be really glad for the short commute to my actual office to start soon.  I don't want to think about any other weirdos I'll meet on the train...

Happy Non-anniversary!

Today would have been my anniversary. It's a strange mix of emotions looking back at the last few years: I'm happy I'm where I am, I'm sad for what could have been.

Most of all, I thank God almost every day that I didn't marry him.

Awkward

I got a Valentine.

You'd think this would be a positive sign, but it really isn't. The Valentine came from a man in my ward. It's just a bag of candy with a note on it, nothing big, but it's unnerving and distressing and awkward. This man (a kind and thoughtful man, mind you) is and never will be marriage material. I hear myself say it out loud and I feel terrible, but he has some physical and intellectual limitations that make it impossible for me to see him as anything but a kind and thoughtful man. There are some things I can deal with, but his limitations are such that they automatically write him off even for a friendship.

I've tried my best to not encourage him at all in this, but you know that sometimes no matter what you do, it isn't enough to deter someone who is very determined. He sits by me in Sunday school when he can, he goes out of his way to shake my hand (sometimes to the point of coming to my pew in church when I've already sat down). IT IS AWKWARD. We had a ward activity a while ago that involved music, and he asked me to dance. I was a little prepared, so I was able to politely decline because I was keeping someone else company. I don't want to hurt his feelings, but I CAN'T encourage him in this.

This is one of those times when it would be highly convenient to have a serious boyfriend. I know I shouldn't ask Heavenly Father for a boyfriend just to avoid this other guy, but I must admit I'm sorely tempted sometimes. Ha. I'm sorely tempted to make up a boyfriend, but then I'd have to explain myself to my entire ward and that would be even more awkward, wouldn't it? Sigh.

I hate walking this line; it is such a disconcerting position to be in. I've been here before, but not with someone quite as limited as him, so it's even more awkward than it usually is.

I guess I should be grateful that he's not doing this to someone of a less appropriate age--I'd rather it was me than someone younger and more likely to be freaked out by his attention. Still, I wish it wasn't this way.

The thought of eating the candy he gave me makes me nauseated, and I just can't do it.

Church tomorrow has a very high weirdness index.

Busy

This week is shaping up to be very busy: it's the culmination of the project I've been working on (how cryptic can I be...) but after this week, I won't be gone every night which will be a relief! Now I just have to determine how to use my spare time wisely so I can finish up some other projects before heading Elsewhere for Christmas. I'm also teaching in church on Sunday, practicing for a Christmas concert, exploring education options, and a few other things. I have a full plate, but I enjoy so much of it.

My bishop told me the other day that I should think about uncomplicating my life. When I got home, I listed the things I do on a regular basis and realized that the THINGS aren't necessarily complicating my life, but my THOUGHTS are. I am feeling a lot of (mostly) self-imposed stress about things I can't really control, and, because I get so caught up in worrying, it's making it hard to do anything at all. That's when things get complicated. I do need more quiet time. I need more time doing the things I want/need to do and less time worrying about how to get it all done. That means I need to calm down, do one thing at a time, and stop panicking about my family's financial situation in January. It has been an extremely difficult year in my house--without going into too much detail, I will say that the recession has hit my dad's business very hard. Without us pooling our limited resources, we might have lost our home. As it is, sometimes we barely make it through a month and in January, it will get even harder because of some health issues that need to be taken care of despite the loss of income it will entail. We can't afford to lose any income, but we also can't afford to have a more significant loss of income if these health problems aren't taken care of now.

Can I control any of this? Not really. Can I look for a better-paying job in order to help more? Yes, I can. Can I MAKE someone hire me? No. So what do I do in the meantime? I pray, I work, I try to find ways to make a little extra money, I support my family in good health and bad, I fast, I pray, I pray, I pray. I'm doing everything I can and freaking out about things I can't control will only use up energy I need to live this life.

Somehow, things will work out. They always do. And I'm grateful for Roxie and Jinxie who give me perspective and tell me to calm down when I get frantic.

Short

(I chose "short" as the title for this post because it's been a busy week and my internet is iffy at best lately. I think we have a bad router and hope we can replace it soon.)

The project I've referred to in most of my blogs this month has been stressful but fun. Part of the stress is that it's brought back a lot of memories of the breakup of my engagement a few years ago. Some of the memories are good, some are very sad, but I'm glad I have the good ones and that the bad ones are memories and not current events. Reminiscing with friends (and talking with new friends who ask) has, at times, been difficult, but it's been so good for me to be able to look back and see how far I've come. I know that it is only through the power of the Atonement of Christ that the breakup didn't completely crush me. I'm so grateful to be able to see that, and I hope I can be a strength to others.

I'm happy to be where I am (despite my job angst) and happy to be headed in the right direction.

Life is so good.

Heart

Recently, I've had the regular opportunity to be around some adorable children. They are so sweet--yes, they're little monsters, but they're SO sweet. It has been a delight to be around them. Tonight, one of them did something so cute I could barely contain myself. I turned to the woman next to me (who has children in a range of ages, the oldest just about married) and said "I want a baby RIGHT NOW!" She smiled and said, "they're awfully cute, aren't they? Are you trying to have kids?" I laughed and replied, "I'm not even married yet! Let me rephrase: I want a date, and then a second date, and then a boyfriend, and then a fiance, and then a husband, and THEN a baby. I have to do it all in the right order, you know!" She laughed too, and then touched my hand and said, "You have a wonderful mother heart. I can tell just watching you how loving you are. Don't ever lose that heart!"

I was sincerely touched. I told her I was doing my best to stay gentle and loving, even though it's hard to be kind to everyone some days. . . It is good to be reminded that it's ok to be kind, especially to children. It's ok to call them "sweetie" when I see them. It's ok to let my heart be soft around them. Sometimes I think we feel like we can't allow ourselves to love because we might not get what we want to love. Yes, it's hard to love without the surety that we get to keep the loved one, but life is so much better when we allow ourselves to love spontaneously and honestly. I love the kids I get to interact with--I think I'll let myself do that without being upset about the children I don't have yet.

Annoyed?

Sometimes I feel like my flirter is broken because I don't get to use it very often. Every once in a while I pull it out, dust it off, and see how rusty it is. Usually, it's in pretty good shape, and I enjoy using it.

Lately, I've been put in a situation where I'm back in contact with someone I used to be interested in but who didn't return the interest in any appreciable way. For a while, I thought maybe there was something between us; we got fairly close and communicated either through text, phone, or IM almost every day. Then I discovered that he wasn't entirely over his divorce (which, to give him credit, was pretty traumatic for him) and instead of seeking help for it, he turned into a serial dater, chasing after girls more than 10 years younger than him. I quickly became uninterested and wrote him off as not worth my time.

Now I see him almost every day and will see him every other day until Christmas. Is he still attractive? Yes, he is. Is he still dating inappropriately young girls? I think he is. Do I have the uncontrollable urge to flirt with him? YES I DO. Is this really annoying? You bet it is.

Sigh.

Discouraged

Roxie and I were talking the other day about how easy it sometimes is to be discouraged, and she made the point that discourage essentially means "taking away courage". Last night, I got a rejection form letter for a job I applied for, and today I feel hopeless and discouraged. I feel afraid to try anything else right now because I'm certain it won't work. I feel like I'm not good enough to try to get out of my dead-end job, that I'll be stuck here forever, gradually gaining 100 pounds through inactivity and losing whatever IQ I have through mindless repetition, eventually becoming grotesque and pointless and redundant.

I posted about being lonely a couple of days ago, and that feeling is just adding to my current spate of discouragement. Sometimes this being single business is REALLY hard.

I've been doing Jillian Michaels' 30-Day Shred program and liking it quite a bit. I haven't leveled up yet but plan to in the next week or so. There's a thing she says at the very end of Level 1, when you're doing bicycle crunches and your abs are screaming. She says, "I know it's hard. That knot in your stomach right now? It's you getting stronger. It's fear leaving your body." I really like hearing that. At first I wasn't sure what she meant, but when I figured it out, it made so much sense. It's the fear of not being able to finish that workout AGAIN, but you power through anyway, and you're done! So I guess we need to fight the fear in our lives in the same way, right?

I guess I just have to keep going through this little setback. I have to power through another set of spiritual bicycle crunches so I can come out stronger in the end. But, much like a workout routine, it's really hard to keep going when you don't see immediate results. That's what has me down today. I'm losing the courage to change my life.