Rain. Water. Tears. Fears. Frustration. Anger. Clouds. Heaven?
Rain. Water. Tears. Fears. Frustration. Anger. Clouds. Heaven?
Life is full. Life is busy. My body aches. My mind is weary.
I feel like I am writing a poem, but I’m not. Sometimes I begin thinking and my thoughts seem poetic. It’s just the artist in me.
I love reading. I love writing. I love words. What do you love?
Call me weird if you like. I am okay with weird. We are all weird in our own way. You must agree. Right?
Even if you don’t, it’s true. Differences are what make the world go around. I just wish those differences didn’t have to cause our Government to shut down. How crazy is that. Right?
National parks are closed. People are being sent home from work. People are being turned away when trying to visit a monument. Parking lots are closed.
Here’s an interesting question. If the parks and monuments are closed, because they are not paying the employees, how are the guards getting paid?
If the government is closed, why do the Senators, Representatives, Cabinet members and President still get paid?
I’m just asking. If a small business owner closed his or her doors to the public, without honoring its previous obligations, the owner would be chastised, tarred and feathered.
What is the government’s punishment for their behavior? How do we as taxpayers get repaid for their noncompliance of our trust?
I’m just asking. Not that anyone will answer me. Will you? Will they?
We all deserve a response. Our country is such a mess.
Yes people, we do disagree on things. We do have opposite opinions on things. But as a nation we must learn to compromise with each other.
How do you think other countries are looking at us now? “Those crazy Americans. Look at them. Ha, ha, ha!”
Here is a note, specifically for the President.
Dear President Obama,
I voted for you both times, even though it was more because of there not being any other good choice. Regardless of that, I gave you my trust. I had hope.
Please guide our leaders. Please show them the way. Isn’t that your job? I’m not being rude. I’m just asking.
How can our nation improve? How can we grow? How will our economy get better if our government is shut down?
I am utterly confused right now. Please help me to understand.
Your Sister-in-arms and U.S. citizen (I have the birth certificate to prove it),
I know he will never read this. I am just venting. Try it. It helps me. Now I can move on. Now I can just wait and see what they do. Not that we have a choice. Horrible. Isn’t it?
So, as I stress and ponder, I move on. I advise you to do the same.
Month One – May 2012
Though my thoughts will mainly pertain to moving, I will also cover everyday topics – considering that my ‘other stuff’ affects my moving. Once or twice a month, I will ramble on about what ails me. If you are thinking ‘why should I care?’ let me answer that for you now.
We all go through trials in life. How we all deal with these things is unique. Knowing that we aren’t alone in our sufferings can be comforting to some. Others might just find some humor in it. What I wish to accomplish is to share my story, in the hopes of helping some to see that anything can be overcome. As life beats down on us, we get weary. But, if we keep trying to achieve our goals, we can make things happen.
So, I also want you to share. I welcome comments and thoughts. Even if you have a long anecdote to share, feel free. Let us keep in mind that I will not accept any profanity. We all have our limits; that is one of mine.
So, me and my moving? Yes, I’ve moved a few times. Okay. Maybe it was more than just a few. How about you? I find that moving keeps me sane. Sounds crazy, huh?
Well, I’ve recently moved again, and it’s only temporary. So, in between the packing, unpacking and settling in, I’m also looking for my next place. And, as I sit down to start this blog; I realize that I’m not ready to share.
I want to scream. I want to hide. I want to move on with my life. I want my relationship with my son to be better. I want the man that I love to love me back. I want someone to pay me to do a job that I love. I want to lose weight and be healthy. I want to move on.
Moving on means something different to everyone. For me, it doesn’t have to mean that I’m doing something different from what I currently am; it just means that I want to feel more fulfilled. The other day, I turned 43. Sometimes, I feel that is old. Other times, I feel I have many years before me. Today, I feel I’ve disappointed my deceased mom.
If she can see me, is she shaking her head in despair? Or, is she saying ‘that’s my daughter?’ I wish I knew. Then I could sleep better. I also wish I knew exactly how many days I have left on this earth. That way, I could plan better. I’m a planner. How can I move on if I don’t know how long I have?
I guess I have to plan without knowing the timeframe, since my answer will be too late.
So, back to moving. How many times have you moved? Were all your moves in the same town, state? Why have you moved? Do you always have help? Do you have to pay your help? Can you pay your help to help me? Did I go too far? Sorry, I had to try.
With all the work that you have to put into moving, I sometimes want to just throw all my things out. Or maybe I could just get one of those big trash dumpsters put in the driveway. I could dump all my things in it and burn it all. Pack my bag. Grab my laptop. Get in the car and drive off. Sounds easy enough, right?
I’m feeling overwhelmed. Maybe I need one of those life coaches. But, if they aren’t free, I guess I’m out of luck.
No cash. No savings. No help. Yet, somehow I have to move again.
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