Blue is for Blah

If only I could predict a new day's content from the moment my slow-to-wake eyes began blinking furiously to gain clarity in the early morning... or make that afternoon. Yes, a little insight would be much appreciated by a girl who plans so often for "some day" instead of enjoying THIS day. But my musings are not entirely the point of this post, or maybe they are.

So far in my whistling work tune (see my earlier work song blog post) I have utterly failed to be loud, I've barely been able to be present! I often feel so drowned out by what's expected of me that I miss BEING me: I'm only an attempter, getting my sense of accomplishment from how many hours I work or what part of the store they put me in (again). Obviously, this gets me no where. One of the hardest things (personally) that I've experienced may not sound like much, but it was an end-all blow out of my one-and-only shot: The cash register. YEEEEK! Typing up item numbers, removing hard tags from blue-jeans, making sure I push the store's credit card on EVERY customer, crucifying my first transaction (let's just say I still don't know how to process checks, and the lady wasn't happy with me when I pressed the wrong button restarting the whole check-out process), and speaking with a squeak of a voice that did me no favors in hiding my nerves. Hmmm... I guess all of the above are why I have yet to experience the cash register since then; I've been placed in the fitting room instead.

The above paragraph simply proves one of my many musings: if you turn everything into a worst possible scenario, then that's what you'll get. And again, as the above paragraph demonstrates, my worst possible scenarios fall into predictable patterns of self-negativity/doubt and self-inflicted depression/debbie-downer syndrome. It's to the point that it's nearly robbed me of every kind of motivation (which may be one reason why I haven't posted since the beginning of June). I can't write with drive, I can't read my Bible with drive, I can't exercise with drive (though I can sure eat with it); I can't even wake up with drive (and pent up "drive" keeps me awake at night). If prayer doesn't quick-fix it (which it hasn't) then what's my next move? Continue with my passionless existence in an attempt to break down the gray walls? Allow myself to wallow in weariness for a second longer to get it out of the way? Perhaps I should do both over the phone with a good friend and a cup of tea. Answers to one's problems that begin in the heart are never as easy as try, try again are they?

There are many factors which I think have contributed to my overall muted emotional color scheme. For starters, I'm in Texas. Not that Texas as a state is to blame (I could be in Rhode Island for that matter). It's just that for the time being, I'm stuck missing the past: the used to be's. I think I've translated "I miss the way I used to run down a quiet dirt road" and "Even if Texas had a quiet dirt road I wouldn't be able to BREATHE on it" to "I miss the way I used to [blank i.e., be witty] and "I wonder if I'll ever be able to [blank i.e., be witty] again." In other words, It's grown to include not only geography but capability: I've lost any sense of self-confidence I once held... and I miss it (classic example of my attitude; did you catch it?)

Another factor of my "miss demeanor" (if you will) is attributed to my hyper-active "dreamer" ways. I've noticed myself slipping deeper in to the trap of unchecked dreaming. That is, I've been dwelling on a brighter future, a different present, and a glorified past. I've led myself to shut-off real life (which I've called boring) with anything I can entertain in my head (which I've called satisfying). Dreaming isn't the problem here, I've always been one to let my mind wander. The problem is that a dream can never be fulfilled until you wake up, and I haven't made that step this summer.

So, here's to chucking my mind-made sleeping pills and opening the curtains wide: Here's to finally opening those slow-to-wake, furiously blinking eyes.