Hope for the Hopeless?

It’s difficult to capture poignant moments in words and tell stories about them, when there aren’t really stories to tell, just moments and insights that one doesn’t really know how to share.

A single moment of an ordinary day can change a life, so long as the potential changee doesn’t lose the lesson in the hustle of building a life.

It breaks my heart that we live in a world overrun by destructive moments; that callousness seems to be the order of the day, and that I often help callousness on its way.

 It reminds me of when Elder Holland gave a talk in General Conference about Speaking with the Tongues of Angels. I remember how convicted I felt, because I am nothing if not biting and sarcastic.

How do I reconcile my cynicism with my quest for Christianity? It causes such cognitive dissonance that I often despair.

How can I decry the cruelty of the world, when everyday, in some way, I contribute to it?

It almost makes life feel vain. What is the point of lofty goals and pretty creeds, if not accompanied by integrity and character?

No wonder we need the Atonment; if only I could cast off pride, let go of doubt and surrender.

RANT

I like my job. It’s challenging, I’m pretty good at it, and there’s room for growth, but some days…

I really don’t understand the attitude that some people take when it comes to fast food.

We are serving you cheap food, rather quickly, so that your fat ass doesn’t have to do anything.

Some days, like maybe Friday and Saturday, your wait is a little longer, because HEY GUESS WHAT! Everyone else in the freakin tri-county area doesn’t want to cook, or has the I’m high munchies.

It’s no different than going grocery shopping on a Saturday morning–the lines are a little longer.

Add to this Saturday Night craziness a call out, and you’ve got a stressed out manager doing her job AND a position, AND covering the break that had to go out.

So, you’ll understand why I am being nice, but a little rushed with you, when you make inane requests of me.

And when you tell me I’m rude, you’ll understand why I just look at you blankly, close my window, and bag your food, while taking the next guy’s order.

You’ll also understand why when I open the window to give you your drinks, and you tell me I should find a new job, I silently agree with you for half a milisecond, and then give you that look I give total idiots and say, in my most sarcastic tone, “Yeeeeah. I’ll think about that.”

Then I’ll slam the window in your face and tell my sandwich maker to hand you your food, so that I don’t accidently spill it on your udders. Or is that your stomach?

Seriously, if you feel the need to be an ass to service people, you’ve got bigger problems than waiting an extra five minutes for that burger and fry that you clearly do not need.

The Silence

I’m so quiet because I am working on my 101 things to do in 1001 days.

 It is difficult and time consuming.

That and there are 9.5 more seasons of SG-1 that I haven’t seen yet.

It’s all about priorities.

It’s 8 PM

Do you know where Crystal is?

If you guessed “In Bed,” you’d be correct.

Good night. You’ll never get the last ten seconds of your life back.

Thanks for stopping by!

Quite the Week

If I had to choose one word to describe this week it would be stressful.

Two times a year, we have a surprise inspection by a QSC Manager. His job is basically to watch every single thing we do all day, and look at every part of our operations and score us.

He picks us apart and tells us everything we do wrong, and, also, what we do right. But the emphasis is almost always on what we do wrong.

Obviously this puts the manager and crew people on edge.

I drew the lucky day this time. And when I say it was a surprise, I kid you not, it was a total surprise. I was in the middle of my open, just doing my thing, when I got a knock on the window.

Surprise! QSC Guy! Woo Hoo!

I’m a fairly new manager, and a very low ranked manager. You don’t really get much lower on the pay scale.

 So, needless to say, it kind of freaked me out.

But I know that I do my job well, and that the inspection just is what it is. So, I just did my thing, with a little more attention to detail than usual.

And of course, it was a freaking disaster. There was just problem after problem.

But problems is why I have a job. If the restaurant ran itself, I’d be employed just flipping burgers. So, thank you God for problems.

The experience was more than worth the stress. A pair of outside eyes, watching me work and giving honest feedback is something I need.

The feedback was phenomenal and motivating.

We didn’t score so well, but many things were out of my hands. The things that I can control, I will work to improve. There’s nothing holding me back but my own inaction.

So, to recap:

 Stress is good.

And thank you, God, for problems.

Back to Blogging

This experimental return to blogging is tougher than I thought it might be.

For one thing, I am in front of a computer far less often than I used to be. I’ve spent a total of 10 hours in my own home in the last two weeks, and that is being generous.

House-sitting for the Grandparents has been a pleasure; cable television, comfy chairs just perfect for reading, and full use of a great kitchen.

When I haven’t been here at the familial homestead, I’ve been off at J’s spending time at our favorite restaurants and getting a little too drunk. She really is the best friend ever. For real, for real.

 Aside from all this time away, I just wonder which angle to take. Do I want to stay a slice o’ lifer? Should I pen screeds condemning McCain’s painfully obvious RINOism? Will my never-ending Dark Night of the Soul be interesting? How about this battle for a firm sense of self? A layman’s Freakonomics?

Ah. Potential…

My Life in General

There is a certain restlessness about this night that leaves me sleepily wide awake.

The wind is strong and bitterly cold; the sort of cold that makes it a pleasure to pay someone else to pump your gas, if only there was such a station in a distance close enough that would not leave me hitchhiking to the station.

The roads are as icy as my malformed soul. My car scattered back and forth, before deciding at the last minute to take the turn home much too widely, but injuring no one. Sort of like my life in general.

I am warm and cozy, so long as I don’t wander outside, also much like my life in general.

I finally finished a book I have been reading since December 8th, the day of my boring flight to Pittsburgh. I do not recommend Special Topics in Calamity Physics. In a word, it sucks.

In more than one word, it believes itself to be much smarter than it is, which amazingly enough, is also much like my life in general.

At least I am smarmily brief.

Why Georgia

I’m not sure why I stopped blogging.

Judging from my cell phone bill, it wasn’t that I ran out of things to say. Shutting up is not one of my strong suits.

But bottling up is, and it has been quite the containment season. I think that there comes a point when my thoughts make little sense, even to me, and it is then that the withdrawing comes most easily.

Everyday chatter is one thing, but contemplating things that matter is a hide under the covers and the monsters don’t get you sort of thing. And the silence (at least the pixelated kind) is the only safe place.

I thought I would have a whole lot more figured out by now. I’ve come to peace with the idea that I will always only be me; I won’t be someone else, and that is okay, but I haven’t yet figured out what it means that I am me.

 I didn’t hit 25 and, suddenly, I was fully formed–and I must say, it came as quite the shock.

It could be a quarter-life crisis, or just a stiring in my soul.

Ah, nothing like lyrical profundity to speak straight to me, while providing precious little in the way of answers.

Kind of like my blog posts.

Oops

It’s been so long since writing here, that I forgot the name of the blog.

I had to do a google search.

Such is life.