Tag: Personal

No expiration date

~ K ~ Leave a comment

I should probably do a review of previous blog posts and strike out anything I don’t believe anymore. This blog is 13 years old and I’ve evolved, changed, and grown, especially on the topic of homosexuality.

I started this blog after depression introspection to talk about all things personal. Nonsensical and random, really. Depression introspection focused solely on the topic of mental health. This blog was about me. My thoughts. My feelings. It still IS about me no matter how rarely I use it.

These past few years have been a whirlwind. I’ve blogged about it here and there from time to time, but a full update is overdue.

I have 2 kids: a son and a daughter. My husband and I have been together for almost 19 years. After going through a season of infertility for so long and trying to conceive, it is weird to be in a stage of life where I’m no longer actively pursuing building a family. My family is built. And I feel complete.

I left a job I was at for 5 years to pursue a new opportunity that I thought would help me grow. It did help me grow, and I’m grateful for the experience, but…I didn’t even last a full year at the job. It wasn’t a good fit for me. But I learned new things and expanded my knowledge so I don’t regret my time there.

Now I’m at a new job where I’ve been working for a little over 3 months. I…love it. It has a great work/life balance, I get paid more, and the people I work with (from bottom to top) are completely awesome. I love my boss and his boss and his boss. No one in my department seems too haughty to work with, and I appreciate that people—especially upper management—are available and accessible to everyone. And everyone seems to have a vital role and isn’t just there for the sake of being there.

I mentioned this in early 2020, but we bought a house. It’s open concept and spacious, but it feels kinda small (in terms of bedroom space) ever since the pandemic. My office is open office (like an office setting, I suppose), which doesn’t allow for much privacy. But I make it work somehow.

I’m thinking about getting a dog. My son is deathly afraid of dogs and needs to get over his fear. He is scared to wait at the bus stop because one of the parents of a kid at the bus stop walks their dog at the same time. Of course, the one dog I introduced him to at 3 was not a dog friendly to kids and that has traumatized him ever since.

I just finished potty training my daughter. She still hasn’t gotten the hang of number 2, but she’ll get it in time. I’m never potty training a kid again.

I’m sure there’s more news that I’m not thinking of, but that’s the update on my life. Myself, job, family, and home.

Friends? They’re around somewhere…

Painting Pictures of Egypt

~ K ~ 1 Comment

I don’t want to leave here
I don’t want to stay
It feels like pinching to me either way
The places I long for the most
Are the places where I’ve been
They are calling after me like a long lost friend

—Sara Groves, “Painting Pictures of Egypt“

I recently moved to a new home. A house. My husband and I are first-time homeowners. I have 2 kids now. A lot has changed. I was in our apartment since I first moved to Pennsylvania in 2006. We moved to our new home in December 2019. 13 years there. 13 whole years. That’s over a decade and time to plant yourself somewhere. Especially for renting.

Now I’m in my new home—house—I miss my apartment. I miss the memories. I miss the familiarity. I miss the convenience. I lived right across the street from the train station, was near a nice library, and around the block from good friends. Everything was in walking distance with access to various restaurants. It was a walkable town. It felt more like the suburbs of Long Island in which I grew up.

Continue reading “Painting Pictures of Egypt” →

The Evolution of My Christian Beliefs

~ K ~ 1 Comment

It’s not hard to put into words what I’m thinking and feeling—verbally. Writing it down is another story.

A lot of what I believed previously has changed and evolved. I no longer buy into the fundamentalist teachings of yore. I also don’t buy much evangelical teaching either. Apparently, there’s a group of #exvangelicals on Twitter. These are former evangelicals who no longer associate themselves with fundamental Christianity. Maybe some of them are still Christians, of which I am one. But others have become atheists, agnostics, or have decided to pursue a different religion altogether (eg, Buddhism). A friend who has become an agnostic exvangelical sent me a helpful link that defines who falls into exvangelicalism.

I’m a weird mix of Calvinism and progressive Christian beliefs. How do you merge Calvinism with progressive Christian beliefs? I actually don’t know. But I do it.

Continue reading “The Evolution of My Christian Beliefs” →

The imperfect, structured prelude

~ K ~ 1 Comment

Critics at their worst
Could never criticize
The way that you do
No, there’s no one else I find
To undermine or dash a hope
Quite like you
And you do it so casually, too
— Aimee Mann, “Nothing Is Good Enough”

I am my own worst critic. And the negativity and criticism have reached critical level in my head to the point where I have seriously considered suicide. I even had a plan, too. Won’t tell you what so I don’t give any ideas to others who might be vulnerable but it was a plan I was comfortable implementing.

I have cried a lot recently. Cried over my self-worth. Cried over the time PPD took me away from my child. Cried over my difficult relationship with my child.

I guess it’s kind of bad. I have this “Christian” faith in God. But when it comes down to it, the faith that once helped to keep me alive I have now, in actions, abandoned. I haven’t really found a good excuse to stay alive. Except for my husband. I know he’d be devastated without me.

And I mean, devastated.

On September 29, I enrolled in a partial hospitalization program (PHP) in attempt to avoid full hospitalization. (The last time I was hospitalized, I was almost sexually assaulted.) My actual PHP began on September 30. Insurance has approved 10 days in the program and I have only been able to attend 5 out of 8 days so far due to medication side effects and illness (the worst migraine of my life that lasted at least 48 hours).

I have been dealing with a lot of anxiety too. It prevents me from doing the most basic (and annoying) tasks. I had an anxiety attack over balancing my checkbook, checking my personal email, looking at my reactivated Facebook account. I refused to even try checking my work email for fear I’d get sucked into flipping out of work projects and concerned emails from coworkers.

My husband has repeatedly expressed his desire for me to live. I want to honor that. If for no one else, I am going to attempt to fight back against my suicidality and negative thoughts so he can enjoy the rest of his life with his life partner. I feel fight in me right now. I can’t promise that I’ll feel fight in me on Monday. But I’ll try to hold on to this feeling.

I was enrolled in a PHP after my full hospitalization back in 2006 and I don’t remember it being half as good or effective as it is now. While it was structured back then, it is even more structured now. There’s a pattern to it. A 50-minute pattern that I appreciate. It starts off with the full group participating in either yoga (Mondays and Fridays) or mindfulness meditation. Then we break off into 2 groups for a daily check-in where we rate and discuss how we are feeling that morning. Subsequently, the 2 groups combine for a class based on a specific topic, such as core beliefs, shame, self-care. (Quite honestly, this is the one “class” where many of us nod off. Sometimes it’s boring but sitting there as if it were a class is sleep inducing.) After that, we have lunch and then head into open group where we can discuss anything that is on our mind or help someone who is particularly troubled or struggling that day. Finally, we end the day with mindfulness meditation again and a “check-out” that allows us to rate how we are feeling at the end of our daily PHP.

Quite frankly, I never appreciated structure until this program. I always disliked structure because I felt like things would become “routine,” which of course was the point. I preferred variation, changing things up, and never knowing what might come next. But as I’ve gotten older, lack of structure bothers me. It drives me nuts. Life with a toddler is anything BUT structured. Never knowing each day whether I’m going to work late is NOT routine. Structure doesn’t have to be precise or exact. Group doesn’t always end exactly at 12:20 pm before lunch like it should. Sometimes it ends at 12:17 pm. Sometimes it ends at 12:25 pm and cuts into our lunch a bit. And that’s okay with me. It’s a simple reminder that life doesn’t always go according to plan, and I can get back on track as soon as I am able.

My PHP experience is teaching me quite a bit. I’m learning to forgive myself and be patient with myself. To not be so quick to criticize myself when I screw up or to spew negative words at myself when I’m not perfect. I’ve identified a few core beliefs that are extremely negative and cause me to feel worthless and hopeless. I’ve learned that shame causes me to be impatient with myself, to not settle for being anything less than “perfect,” and causes my inner worth to feel tainted.

I’ve also identified several aspects of self-care for myself. I’m not sure how to incorporate them daily but weekly may have to do. A few activities that I consider to be self-care include the following:

  • journaling or blogging
  • listening to secular music in the comfort of my home
  • reading
  • writing a short story or novel (yes!)
  • spending time with friends
  • praying
  • reading the Bible
  • listening to Christian music that inspires me
  • attending church regularly and being part of a community

To help manage much of my anxiety, I have learned breathing techniques and grounding techniques. I never knew there were actually tangible things I could do to calm myself. I’d rather use these techniques before popping a Xanax.

So my PHP has been extremely helpful for me, and I’m really trying to absorb all of the information provided to me. I’m not ready to return to work yet. I still need to get my medication adjusted to the right dosage that allows me to function regularly (eg, lack of day drowsiness, lack of extreme morning grogginess, absence of headaches and nausea). I still have a weird jittery side effect whenever I’m still or at rest so I’m hoping that eventually goes away.

One of my primary tasks is deconstructing the core beliefs about myself.

  • I can’t do it.
  • I don’t fit in.
  • I’m a loser.
  • I’m worthless.
  • I’m not as smart or talented as others so I’m no good.
  • I’m boring.
  • I’m not important
  • I’m not capable.
  • I’m stupid.
  • I’m ugly.
  • My thoughts are dumb.
  • My opinions aren’t wanted.

I’m having a moment where I feel like many of those things aren’t true. But WOULD TO GOD if I always thought that way. The first step to breaking down my negative core beliefs is simply identifying them. Somehow, I’ll need to move from there. (I have a handout about this but it’s riddled with spelling and grammatical errors so I’ll have to find something on the Internet.) 🙂

There’s a better story
Of true love of true grace
There’s the hope of glory
And our first chance to be truly brave
It’s the place we’re going
When we can’t stay where we are
— Sara Groves, “Rewrite This Tragedy”

~ K ~ 3 Comments

Right about now, I should be posting about my mid-year goals. But this year has sucked so bad so far that my mid-year goals are what I want to write about least.

Are the basic things okay? Sure, my entire family’s healthy (for the most part) and we’re all alive. We have food, shelter, and water. We’re doing great on that front. In fact, I’ll even let you know that we’re financially more well off than we’ve ever been.

But I am miserable. I wake up every day wishing I were dead. What I earn does not make me happy except for the few seconds twice a month when I see how much has been direct deposited into my account. I am able to distract myself with Facebook and Twitter. But when those things are gone, I am left alone with my thoughts. And my thoughts cannot figure out how to escape. How to extract myself from my current situation. I cannot even brainstorm a decent way to commit suicide.

The year started off great. On January 2nd, one of my best friends and I spent the day in Philly taking in Independence Hall and enjoying a few beers at a bar featured on the Food Network. Then January 5th came. And then every weekday after that. It all felt like a nightmare. Being excluded. Not fitting in. Dealing with catty women. My current work situation takes me back to high school and the questions that I grappled with then: Why doesn’t anyone like me? Why won’t anyone go to lunch with me? Why won’t anyone hang out with me after hours? Am I not cool enough? Am I too weird? Is something wrong with me? I showered today but did I not soap well enough to eliminate any odors?

In early April, the senior editor left and I became the only editor in the entire agency. It’s not a big agency, only 28 people, but there’s enough work flowing through that I cannot handle it alone. I have found egregious mistakes in the final round before things have gone to print. On Friday, I found an egregious mistake on a piece that has already been printed and will cost the agency hundreds, if not thousands, of dollars. (Likely thousands.)

In late February, the agency hired a new supervisor for the copy department. She has been difficult to get along with. At every moment I think she’s a cool gal (she’s going to San Diego Comic Con this year), she does or says something that upsets me. She seems to have cooled off within the past few weeks but I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. I feel like I can’t get too comfortable anywhere.

People at the agency I thought I was friendly with have distanced themselves from me. People only discuss business with me. No one takes a real interest in my personal life. (Not that much is going on but I am a person with various interests too, I think.) I make an effort to discuss personal things with others but the sentiment isn’t reciprocated.

My son is a man’s man. He loves daddy and grandpa. When he hurts himself, feels sick, or tired, he gravitates toward daddy (when it’s just me and daddy around). I always thought I’d be the one to kiss his boo-boos and cuddle with him when he’s not feeling well. I always thought I’d be the one to put my child to sleep, play with him, watch TV with him, and take care of him. He likes me sometimes but not always. I’m not who he clings to. I don’t even feel loved by my own kid. When he was first born, I felt like I couldn’t bond with him and now I feel like PPD has robbed me of my ability to bridge the gap created by those first few months. He doesn’t even want me. Sure, he’s familiar with me and I can make him smile and laugh but if you spend enough time with the kid, he’ll gravitate to you too. He’s just a really nice, fun kid. But I’m no one special. And I want to be. And the fact that I’m not kills me. I’d rather be out of the picture than feel rejected by my own son.

My therapist tells me I need to love myself and accept myself. I’ve pretty much decided that’s not happening so we need to find another solution. Loving myself would require rejecting the majority opinion that others have rejected me and have deemed me not worthy of inclusion. Accepting myself would require thinking that my quirks (soft rock love and all) are awesome and what other people think be damned.

I can’t do that. Because I want to be loved by others. I want to be accepted by others. No, not everyone has to like me, but I want someone to extend the invitation to feel included. I want to not feel like a freak and a weirdo around the people I spend most of my time with every day. I just want to be included.

I recently took a test for certification as a medical/scientific editor. It was sufficiently challenging. I wouldn’t be surprised if I passed or failed either way. It was a weighted test with difficult questions counting more than the easy ones. This year has been such shit, I’m sort of expecting to have failed. So I guess I will be surprised if I pass after all. (Even if I don’t, I will make plans to get to attend a conference in San Antonio later this year to try and take the test again.) I keep in touch with the former senior editor and she’s convinced that I passed. She’s one of those people who’s always convinced she’s right. And I hope she is.

My marriage is great, though. My husband and I will be celebrating our 10th anniversary in late August. No small feat! We’ve weathered my reoccurrence of mental illness, infertility, the death of loved ones, job changes, hospitalizations, surgeries, various friendships, waxing and waning spirituality, and so on. To celebrate, we’d like to take in a Red Sox vs. Yankees game at Fenway in July. I will be up there for a patient-centered conference on maternal disorders so we have been able to work it out.

My spiritual life is crap. I pray very little. I rarely attend church. (I’ve been attending the local Roman Catholic Church on and off.) I can’t tell you the last time I’ve read my Bible. I am back to the point where I am probably going to hell but am begging and pleading the Lord God Almighty to accept me into heaven in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ. I’m not an atheist or agnostic. I have been antisocial and have not wanted to engage in corporate worship. Or schmoozing with anyone from church, for that matter. And then there will be the questions: Where have you been? Haven’t seen you. We’ve missed you!

Maybe we should go back. I know they actually miss us. But this stage of life has taken away our energy to socialize weekly and stay out late Sunday through Thursday. (Friday and Saturday are more flexible for us. But even then, the little man goes to bed at 8:30 pm and our community group gets together at 7 pm. What’s the point of going?)

I’m behind on domestic life. My husband does EVERYTHING: laundry, dishes, housework. He takes care of the little man when he gets home and stays with him through the night (No, our little man is not sleeping on his own and he does not sleep through the night. He is 16 months.). My husband drops him off at daycare and takes care of him in the morning. I now do very little. I wake up, go to work, spend at least 8 hours there, come home, eat, drink a beer or two, and then pass out. I’m very unhappy with my life. I’m a crap mother and a poor excuse of a wife. Being a freelancer allowed me the time and opportunity to do everything I needed to while still earning an income (albeit, inconsistent and fluctuating). I kept up on the checkbook, did laundry, managed medical bills and made sense of the explanation of benefits from insurance. My desk wasn’t super tidy but I knew where everything was. I kept an eye on items that needed to be restocked. Sure, I was powered by 5 cups of coffee a day but I was efficient and useful. My home has never been pristine but it’s not the mess that it is now (and no, it doesn’t really have much to do with my kid). I eat out every single night. I can’t tell you the last time I had a homecooked meal. We used to spend Friday nights with my in laws and my husband’s maternal and paternal grandmothers. Now everything is disjointed and I can’t tell you the last time I’ve seen my husband’s paternal grandmother (who we used to see every week).

I drink beer like it’s going out of style now. It’s the only way I can relax after a grueling day at work. If I’m honest, it’s self-medication. Alcohol has a relaxing effect on me that my actual medications to manage bipolar illness don’t. If I need to, I will drink beer AND take my medication. I really don’t care. If I get sick and die doing that, I’m actually okay with that. I really am that miserable here.

If you’ve read this far, thanks for reading. This post isn’t necessarily for others to read (although since you’re seeing this, you’re obviously welcome to it) but more of a brain dump for me because I haven’t been able to write.

I miss writing. Blog posts, news articles, creative writing—I miss it all.

Most of all, I miss me.

Guard Your Heart

~ K ~ 1 Comment

I am dealing with pain and hurt.

How do I be vague and specific about what’s going on in my life all at the same time?

I feel like I’ve loved and I’ve lost. Like the rug was taken out from under me. That I had no say. That every decision was made for me.

I feel as though I need to walk forward into life trusting few, if any, people at all.

I’m afraid that the ones I’ve opened myself and my heart up to will shatter me into a million pieces. Never to be fully reassembled.

I feel wronged and confused and bewildered.

I embark on a new journey and set sail with an uncertain course. I don’t know whether to keep my heart to myself or to open it up, leaving me open to brokenness again. I feel like I’ve already opened myself up to certain people and I just can’t take it back.

I wish I could. I wish I could be quiet, keep to myself, “normal” me. Busy as a bee. Quieter than a tree.

I don’t know how to slowly unveil myself. All my quirks, foibles, and eccentricities. I feel like I’m sort of a BAM! package deal or a “Nevermind, I pass.”

After years of pretending to be quiet and not showing my true self, I don’t know how to become bubbly and cheerful. I guess.

I’m afraid. Afraid that all my hard work will come tumbling down in a matter of weeks. Will I crumble? Will I succumb to pressure?

I thought I had a family. I did. But then they were collectively taken away from me.

My heart hurts. My heart bleeds. My heart wants so much more. I live hard. Love hard. Live deeply. Love deeply.

It’s a blessing and a curse to be so alive, to give your heart out to so many.

Because the majority of people will break it without care.

I feel so heartbroken. As though I entered a 3-year romantic relationship only to be broken up without a plausible explanation. Shift the blame on me and when I try to do what it takes to make the relationship work, cut me off like a New York driver in rush-hour traffic.

I wanted to make it work so badly. Even if the break was in my best interest, I wish it would have been relayed to me. But now, I feel adrift. Alone. Cold. Without a home.

There’s another land on the horizon. I just don’t know what challenges and benefits it will bring. Will it bring any benefits at all? I’m gearing myself up for challenges.

I need to guard my heart. “Keep thy heart with all diligence, for out of it are the issues of life.” — Proverbs 4:23

And let me TELL you, I have issues.

Everyone’s a critic (including myself)

~ K ~ Leave a comment

For the next week, I’ll be working full time filling in for someone who is out on medical leave. During that week, my mother will be here.

It’s almost Mother’s Day and I don’t want to sound critical of my mom but…

(Yes.)

…she can be very critical of me with comments about my weight and my parenting.

I’ve adopted this critical attitude toward myself. I’ve realized no one is harder on me than I am. It just often sucks to be validated about the criticisms I lay on myself.

—

Working full time (even temporarily) outside the home has made me tired. I barely have energy to think let alone work. Extracurriculars, such as book club and exercise, have fallen by the wayside.

 

 

Full-time negativity

~ K ~ Leave a comment

For the next week, I’ll be working full time filling in for someone who is out on medical leave. During that week, my mother will be here.

It’s almost Mother’s Day and I don’t want to sound critical about my mom, but she can be very critical of me with comments about my weight and my parenting.

I’ve adopted this critical attitude toward myself. I’ve realized no one is harder on me than I am. It just often sucks to be validated about the criticisms I lay on myself.

—

Working full time (even temporarily) outside the home has made me tired. I barely have energy to think, let alone work. Extracurriculars, such as book club and exercise, have fallen by the wayside.

Lies That I Tell Myself

~ K ~ 1 Comment
  • Nobody loves me.
  • I’m a failure.
  • I suck.
  • I’m a horrible mother.

Those are just a sample of the lies I tell myself on a daily basis. I know they’re lies because

  • I have a family who loves me.
  • I have a successful freelancing business.
  • I have tons of helpful friends.
  • My kid is still alive.

But as illogical as it might sound, if you think on something long enough, it starts to feel true. I deal with loneliness, perfectionism, low self-esteem, and lack of confidence.

Often I have the tune of “Jesus Love Me” stuck in my head, but here are the words I hear:

Nobody loves me
This I know
For nobody
Tells me so

Which is a blatant lie because my husband tells me he loves me every day.

I don’t know how to overcome these lies in my head. I don’t know how to focus on what is true. I don’t know how to not feel so alone in my mind and my heart.

Professional Widow

~ K ~ 1 Comment

I grew up in Long Island, New York close to the New York City metro area. I was raised to believe in making something of myself professionally. My father always wanted me to be able to support myself and not rely on anyone else.

Fast-forward to the second decade of this millennium and I am wholly reliant upon my husband to provide for me and my son. I am deathly afraid that if something were to happen to him that I would not be able to support myself. This makes me feel inadequate and incompetent. This makes me feel like a failure.

I’m kind of like a guy—I derive a sense of self-esteem and self-worth from working. Not having a full-time job kills me because I feel financially and emotionally deficient.

I wish I could say I grew up putting family first but I didn’t. I didn’t have a brother or sister to turn to and my parents buster their butts working to provide a decent life for me. My mother missed out on a lot of my school events and she had no idea that I was bullied in school. She also didn’t understand the depression I dealt with.

Family never came first. That’s the model that was set for me. In practicality, work came first. I was a latchkey kid for most of my childhood. I missed out on after-school activities, Girl Scouts, and other programs that other kids were able to take advantage of.

Academics were always important. My father felt as though the better I did in school, the more successful I’d be in life.

I hate to think it hasn’t translated that way but it hasn’t. I’m not as successful professionally as I’d like to be. I wish I could earn enough to help support my family—to afford a second car and help pay a mortgage. Even contribute as a partner to the rent. But no, I am wholly deficient. It’s hard for a creative type like me with a limited set of skills to make a lot of money. I wish I could.

My son needs to be my priority; he’s 3 months old. My husband needs to be priority; he’s family and loves me. But I can’t shake the need—the feeling that I am a colossal failure if I don’t help my family financially. I can’t help but feel like a colossal failure if I’m not putting my time and energy into a profession that either provides for my family or makes a difference.

And right now, I am doing none of those things.

In search of an identity… motherhood.

~ K ~ 1 Comment

I’m a mother now. After nearly 5 years of waiting, a dream has come true. But I’m afraid. So many women become moms and their identity is swallowed up in their children. They forget they are individuals with likes and dislikes and revolve their worlds around their kids.

I don’t want that to be me. I want to continue being the Kass I was before I got pregnant without the incessant melancholy over infertility. However, I do want to pursue my own interests and take time to care for myself and feed my soul. I want to expand my interests and seek new horizons.

  • I still want to be a part of the battle for others to overcome infertility.
  • I want to champion awareness of mental illness: PPD, bipolar disorder, schizophrenia, ADHD, OCD, depression, anxiety, and many other mood disorders.
  • I want to expand my horizons professionally and attend conferences that will challenge me, engage me, and help me grow.
  • I want to expand my horizons personally by connection with supportive women online and offline.
  • I want to support non-profit organizations wholeheartedly, e.g., Postpartum Progress, Food for the Hungry, International Justice Mission, and Amnesty International.
  • I want to educate the wider Christian community about fertility options and treatments.
  • I want to enjoy my work as a library assistant.
  • I want to enjoy my work as a freelance editor.
  • I want to be a loving, supportive wife.
  • I want to be able to splurge (occasionally) on myself.

I don’t want my identity to revolve around my son (as cute as he is).

I know, I know, I’m a Christian so my identity should be based on Christ. Perhaps it’s better to say that I don’t want my personality to be swallowed up by motherhood. The following is a list of things I plan to do for me—to remind myself life isn’t just about my son:

  • I plan on treating a friend (and myself) to a massage for relaxation.
  • I plan on registering for the Warrior Mom conference that takes place in 2015.
  • I plan on being in a wedding in August.
  • I plan on attending another friend’s wedding in August
  • I plan on going to an editorial conference in September.
  • I plan on attending an editor’s conference in March 2015.

I hope to enjoy life more. I want to blog more. A lot of people would add travel to that list. Nope, not me; I’m a happy homebody. I’ll see the Eiffel Tower on the Internet and not deal with turbulence on an airplane over the ATLANTIC OCEAN, kthxbai.

I want to see Justin Timberlake in concert again but not by myself. Alas, some dreams aren’t meant to be realized.

Thoughts Swirling around in My Brain

~ K ~ 2 Comments

Part-time employee status. Husband. Attending the staff meeting in 2 weeks. Bringing in my copy of the AMA style guide to work. Bringing in personal things to work to jazz up my workspace. Let’s face it: I have three places of employment—home, the ad agency, and the library.

Things I am concerned about: making friends at the ad agency. I don’t know how to be a good friend let alone open myself up to receive one. I just need to learn to be content with the few friends I have at the ad agency. C and D are both really good acquaintances.

I am praying for several things at the moment, some trivial, some not:

  • The commercial tenant below to move and to have our landlord offer us the space. I could use it as a dedicated home office and deduct the space from my taxes. This is unlikely but it’s something that I’m praying for nonetheless. I realize that our rent would go up as a result of such an offer but the possibility would still be nice!
  • The Container Store to build a store in Malvern, PA so that I don’t have to drive to crazy Jersey every time I want to get my Container Store fix. And I know just the place for it too…
  • For patience. I’d like a baby. I’d like to become a permanent part-time employee of the ad agency I work for. I’d like more clients. So many things I would like, but I am only one person and there are not enough hours in the day for everything I’d like. And I’m exhausted. Really, God knows what’s best for me. I need to trust Him that everything is as it should be right now. Although it’s difficult when I want a kid, like yesterday. But I am concerned because I know that with the schedule I have right now, a child doesn’t fit in those plans.

I’ve always wanted to be a stay-at-home mom even before I knew what that was. Maybe it’s because my mom was always working and missed out on semi-important events in my life (eg, school plays). My mother, in her quest to provide the best education for me, was never home and I missed out on a lot of opportunities, such as Girl Scouts, as I got older. I always thought how nice it would be if I came home to the smell of freshly baking cookies. That’s always been my dream. But if that couldn’t happen for me, I am determined to make that happen for my kids. (Although the freshly baked cookies will probably be courtesy of Pillsbury because I am a lazy cook.)

Blathering Blatherskite (That’s Me)

~ K ~ 1 Comment

I have nothing to write about really. I’m reading a book, Writing Down Your Soul, and it’s fascinating to me so far. I’m not very far in the book, but the author talks about listening to the Voice from within (yourself) and from without (God). It’s a very spiritual book so atheists wouldn’t like it, but it’s not directly Christian so fundamentalists wouldn’t like it. But I am neither. I am a middle-of-the-road Christian who accepts that the universe does stuff with a lowercase u, and recognizes that God is behind everything with a capital G. I don’t ever plan on being a pastor so I’m okay with my slightly unscriptural stance.

I am at my proofreading job right now. There’s a lot of talk and speculation that I’ll be brought on as a permanent part-time employee, but as of right now, I haven’t gotten complete confirmation. I have a cube, a computer, and my own extension, things which are nice. The office manager has been a real sweetheart and she really likes me so she’s helped me to get set up very well. I appreciate her going out of her way to make me feel like I’m part of the team, something that I’ve felt on the outs for quite a while now.

I’m always afraid that I am doing a poor proofreading job. It’s a constant fear I have because I struggle with perfectionism. I know no one can be perfect and I also know that I should take the fact that the company keeps bringing me in as a sign that I’m doing a good job, but my job centers around the fact that I’m meant to primarily minimize mistakes and I fear that I’m not minimizing them to the extent that other people would like. (I just heard my name from someone so I popped my head up, doing the “gopher” thing that people in cubicles do.) I later learned that indeed it was a mistake that I made, and I am better off never ASSuming but always querying something I’m not sure of.

Opportunity Knocks

~ K ~ 1 Comment

Changes are afoot. I may have the opportunity to work an editing job regularly. This is something I’m somewhat excited about because I enjoy editing and I’ve been told I’m good and reliable. But there’s a part of me that is afraid. Afraid that I’ll be found out to be a fraud in the line of work that I want to do.

A few years ago, my now retired boss called me up and asked me what I wanted to do with my life. The question caught me off guard so I babbled on about having a family, having children, being a mom. Not that I don’t still want those things, but at 30, I now have a clearer picture of what I want to do with my life apart from mothering. I want to be an editor and a writer. I want to write another novel and I want to edit other pieces. Whether I’ll eventually have to choose between editing and my library job, I know not. Frankly, I don’t want to choose. I enjoy them both on different levels.

I may get a regular schedule for a month or two depending on the workload. We’ll see how it works out. It would be nice to have another source of steady income even if it is only for 1 to 2 months.

But I do have an editing business and I would like for it to “take off.” What that looks like, I’m not sure to be quite honest (because, really, I would lie to you). So far, my editing business consists of two advertising agencies, one occasional client, and a past client. I guess two ad agencies is a full load especially with a part-time library job, but I like having things to do during my off hours at night and on the weekends. I like being so busy, I don’t know what to do next. Although it does provide a source of stress.

So if I could go back in time and answer my former boss’s question today, I’d say, “I’d like to write and edit. I’d like to build up a clientele of people I edit for and I’d like to be able to write on the side.” Whether that would have been enough of a satisfactory answer to score the editing job that I got passed over for, I don’t know but it’s the answer that I’d give and the answer that I think I’d stand by 10 years from now. Things change but my basic skills, gifts, and talents haven’t changed; they’ve only evolved over time. Hopefully for the better.

Exciting Times Ahead

~ K ~ 2 Comments

I’m in the midst of a busy season this July. Fresh off a fun weekend with my cousins who live near Washington, D.C., I’m back at work until Thursday evening when I go visit my other cousin who lives near Fort Lauderdale, Florida. I finished my 9-day proofreading stint at the advertising agency and registered with another advertising agency that may need my editorial services off-site.

I’m really excited about the new advertising agency as a client. It will help me to build my repertoire, hone my skills, and do what I love to do on a more regular basis while still being able to work at the library to bring in steady income.