For my j-term course, one of the assignments was to write a diary of a day in our lives. The assignment was already due, but I did a crappy job and am interested in doing it justice. So here it goes...
Today, January 7, 2007
1:15 am
Just got home from the Artist's Quarter, saw Debbie Duncan sing. Went with Wes, Eve, etc. and it was very fun. Wore ridiculously tall black stiletto books, got heckled by four men on the street. Why do women do this to themselves? It't not as though I would actually respond to any advances by any of these men, and I'm not interested in casual sex. If I had my way I might go about my business every day with horrible tangled hair, greasy pale face, frumpy pajamas and terrible body odor with rats trailing behind and dirt underneath my nails... think of that. Ah. So that's why women dress up? They're repulsive if they don't? There must be a middle ground. Called "jeans and a t-shirt."
2:30 am
Why can't I sleep? Feel restless. Roommate Tricia was asleep before I get home, and I haven't talked to her in at least three days, and roommate Elizabeth is in Uganda for January. Despite the jazz club experience, I feel alone. Wish I had someone to say goodnight to.
8:30 am
Alarm goes off. Some annoying song, hit the snooze. I place my radio at the foot of my bed so I have to actually move in order to turn it off. I fool myself into thinking this will help me wake up... it does not.
10:45 am
DARN IT. Will never make it to church. Was I supposed to help out with the kids this morning? I sure hope not. Probably not. Maybe. I don't know. Too late now.
10:55 am
I refuse to shower because I did last night and hair still seems straight from wrestling match with straightener. I need to get up, get to Barnes and Noble as fast as possible. Get out of bed! My sinuses hurt really bad. This is an everyday thing; mom wants me to get surgery like her friend Jan. "It changed her life! No more pain!" I secretly think being in pain every day is good for me. Raises my tolerance level, does it not? Kind of like multitasking: learn to tune out the things you don't like but can't change. Except surgery might help... will think about this later.
11:02 am
Weigh self, confirm yesterday's french fry fiasco. Oh well. Regardless of weight no one seems to be interested in me, anyway, and friends like me the way I am. Will only eat pure fruits and vegetables today, yeah right. Wash dishes while cooking curried vegetables and making coffee. Try to decipher bill information on whiteboard, left by Elizabeth before her departure. What? When are these due? Erm, will let Tricia deal with money. I am money dispenser, nothing more.
11:25 am
Cannot wear anything fun today because am going to work later. I'm a manager at the university's dining center, and I feel a responsibility to be there whenver there's a problem. Today's dinner shift is 2 people short, so I'm going to show up, like I usually do. Fun earrings are my rebellion. As if having a nosering isn't rebellion enough... everyone calls it "cute," even my ultraconservative mother. She doesn't give the same leeway to my little sister, although frankly I've earned it and she hasn't.
Read my Bible, first four chapters of Hebrews, while I eat. Good stuff. I think about rest and knowing scripture so I can know God better and figure out what He wants for my life. Hmmm. Pray for: Mom and her overtime-forcing job, Katie and Galen, Christine, Elizabeth and all the nursing students in Uganda, Jamie in Amsterdam, and the two guys on my mind.
11:45 am
Song by Paolo Nutini on radio, "New Shoes." He's 19 years old and Scottish. Hmm. Will Google him later. Decide to wear my new shoes in hopes that optimism of song will rub off on me.
Spend too much time wandering around my apartment, trying to find random things I need like my driver's license (expired, has a hole punched in it. I'm waiting for the new one to come in the mail), timecard, and check card. Where are my car keys?
12:00 pm
Walk out the door--SNOW! I call my mom immediately; she's at lunch with friends. I inform her of the weather and say goodbye.
12:15 pm
B&N, my second home. I wonder if Lisa is working right now. She's going on dates with Alan now, the guy who I went out with a few times the summer before last. He's nice and everything, but not my type. I think they'd be cute together, though. He's a lot better than the first guy I went out with from B&N, who cried on our first and only date. I think I attract only weirdos. Ah, the guy at the info desk is cute. "Nick," declares his nametag. But Alan always wears "Eugene," so I don't trust this. "Nick" leads me to the book I need to read for class. Thanks, "Nick."
12:20 pm
Two shots of espresso, please. Thanks.
2:45 pm
Hunger tears me from my reading stupor. Ultimate Chocolate Fudge Brownie saves me... So much for the diet. Back to reading. I have to read this entire book because the class watched the movie on Friday, and we had the option of skipping class and watching the movie some other time, or reading the book. I'm a reader, so I skipped.
3:30 pm
Still reading, but I'm distracted by a baby stumbling by, coaxed through a wobbly walk by a cutesy voice and the hands of a daddy. How cute... I can't wait to have children. Hope I don't die alone, eaten by my many dogs. Also am distracted by two elderly couples at the next table. They seem to be having the time of their lives. I hope I'm that fun when I'm old. I could people-watch here all day, and have on many occasions. Can I just live in the world of books, please? Then I won't have to figure out how to relate to real people. Ah, but I am nagged into society by some scripture-based community fellowship rationale which makes friendships and love imperatives. But trust is such a hard thing... people tend to let you down. Maybe this should be like my sinus pain: live with constant rejection, betrayal, and disappointment, and eventually you'll just start to ignore it! Man, I'm depressing. I need more Brent Bauman in my life (he's the ultimate agent of anti-cynicism and a fantastic friend).
4:23 pm
Better get to work. I don't even know what they'll have me do. I hope not the dishroom. I buy the book because I'm 2/3 of the way done, and I can always return it. I know, I know, B&N is not a library. But there a warehouse bookstore and they don't care about individual book sales. I'm a frickin' member, anyway, so they know they're bleeding money from my soul regardless. My mind is stilll in the world of the book, so I'm walking like a zombie; the only words I've said today (besides about 10 to my mom) are "Two shots of espresso, please," "A chocolate brownie, please," (which I had to repeat because I was speaking so softly--side effect of being in a book world, and "Thanks, have a good day," to the cashier. This is a lot more characteristic of me than my peppy school-self. What can I say? I'm an introvert.
4:40 pm
Walk into work. Amanda: "What are you doing here?"
Me: "Well, are there open spots or what?"
Amanda: "Yeah, in the dishroom."
Me: "Aw, crap."
I hate the dishroom. I have never signed up for a shift there in my life. It feels so chaotic, like everything is on the edge of being out of control. And two open spots... that means even with me, we're one person down. Am I supposed to keep everything under control? Crap. I automatically think, I wish Grant were here. Grant can handle anything. He's like a younger version of our boss, Dave, who can also handle everything. Dave is my friend, at-work pastor, father-figure, financial advisor, and life coach. I love to babysit his three kids--it almost makes me feel like part of his family. He's the best boss ever.
4:50 pm
I have to be in the dishroom in 25 minutes, and I don't eat because I'm not hungry. I'm still a zombie in book-world, so I go read. I want to finish the book before I work so I can do the analysis homework afterward.
5:16 pm
Almost done. I'm ALMOST DONE. Amanda gives me grace, lets me finish.
5:27 pm
Into the dishroom. And who is there taking care of the dishes I should have been washing? Grant! This is very funny to me. Every time I think to myself, I wish Grant were here, he shows up. Like when the dish machine broke a few months ago, and he wasn't even working, he came in and tried to fix it. And even when maintenance came, he didn't leave until he was sure we had the situation under control. And before that, on a Saturday night when we were shortstaffed. It seems that all I have to do is think, I wish Grant were here, and BAM! There he is. Of course, this is not a magic formula and never works when I try it purposefully.
5:45 pm
Feel horrible for having such a bad attitude. This really isn't hard work at all. I need to get over myself. Singing helps a lot, and it's so loud that no one can hear me so I'm not bothering anyone. I like Frank Sinatra classics, and the occasional Broadway ballad. "The best is yet to come..."I love singing. Every day should have singing, every hour. My mom wakes me up with singing when I'm at home, and all of her messages on my cell phone are songs. I love it.
6:20 pm
So we're not short workers anymore. Then Korah shows up, and Diana, and Josh. We have too many people in the dishroom! Hallelujah, I get to leave!
6:30 pm
I am still not hungry, but if I don't eat I'll gorge on chocolate later, so I eat carrots and red pepper hummus (a favorite) and macaroni salad. Dinner of champions. I eat in Dave's office so no one bothers me; I don't want to go home. No one will be there because Tricia's working, and besides, I feel like Dave's office is a second home to me. I wish I didn't feel like a total idiot for wanting to stay there--who hangs around the place they work when they're not working? Dork.
7:00 pm
Wander out of the dining center, asking people to work for me tomorrow night so I can go to Bible study. No. No. No. Darn it. I really want to go. While in market I get yelled at 3 separate times for forgetting to take out the recycling at the end of the night last night. Recycling is not something market square does, and it is only at the initiative of the person managing that it is done. I feel a vibe of vindicated humbling aimed at me, as though by trying to recycle I were subtly accusing all others of not being as good a person as me, and now I was put in my place by inconsiderately forcing others to take it out for me which I shouldn't do. Grrrr. I do not mean to seem self-righteous, people! I'm sorry! I was just tired last night and I forgot! Alecia makes me feel better by chatting with me about how we could solve this "market doesn't recycle" problem. Two smaller trashcans, one for recycling and one for trash, in the place of our big trashcan? Sounds good to me! I drink two shots of espresso (this makes it 4 shots and 1 cup of coffee for the day; I'm trying to cut back from 5 shots and 2 cups, so this is good) and head to the library.
7:15 pm
Checkin' the e-mail. Two from Jamie in Amsterdam. She misses me and all of us, and I miss her too. She returns on Wednesday, yay! I relate stories of everyday life and assure her that I love her and can't wait for her to come back. Must also write to Billy, who wrote to me over Christmas break and I never checked my e-mail so I owe him. Also will write on my blog (doing this right now.). When will I do that homework? At least I finished that book.
10 pm
Go to vespers. Very good, nice to use my voice to praise God. Next to the door, so people entering and leaving are very distracting. I consider this a challenge to be conquered.
11:05 pm
Vespers just got out, and who walks up to me but Kelly Anderson?!?! She's so awesome. I love that gal. We chat about life, find out we're both applying to DU's Int'l Human Rights grad program. Yeah, if I ever get my applications done! I need to do those NOW. Or later. Right. Anyway, I tell her about the ob-gyn clinic a friend of mine from church is involved with in Africa and how I might go volunteer there. She is ecstatic, asking if she could come, too. Of course you can come! It would be all volunteer, though, so obviously I would be screwing myself over on loans, but hey, I'll just do whatever God wants me to do. If He wants me in Africa, I'm going to Africa! And maybe Kelly will come too, fun!
11:38 pm
Decide I need to do my laundry, don't want to sleep in an empty home again. I call Sarah, ask for a bed on campus for the night. She nicely says yes.
12:15 am
Get to Sarah's, too tired to do laundry. Was I kidding myself? I read some of John Eldredge's
Wild at Heart so I can be prepared to talk about it in class tomorrow. This is very frustrating. All of these stupid generalizations seems so, so wrong. "Little boys do this, little girls never do that." Um, okay, I must have the soul of a boy, then, John, because I don't fit any of your nice little Americanized socialized stereotypes for what you think the soul of a gender was created to be. Heck, even if God created male and female souls to be specific genders (which I cannot rule out yet, not enough investigation and too much evidence for both sides), then John Eldredge must be missing the mark somewhere. Either that or I'm screwed up to the core of my soul, and that's just not an option I'd like to consider yet. Obviously it's what I'm afraid of, but since Eldredge backs his comments up with contemporary MOVIES more that SCRIPTURE I don't feel that threatened.
1:00 am
Go to sleep. Goodnight, Sarah (hooray, someone to say goodnight to!)!
