Monthly Archives: July 2013


Two months after graduation and I’m sitting on my bed room floor (crawling the interweb) and pondering life.  I’m trying to make necessary steps for my future but right now its in the hands of someone else.

Insert twitching convulsion here.

This is by far the worst part of anything.  I have most definitely learned that I prefer to have the control in situations.  One may choose the phrase “control freak” to define my anxiety in times like this.  Well one, I guess you’re right.  “What in the hell is wrong with being a control freak?!” is my retort to you!

I’m the type A personality in that respect.  I prefer to do things on my own because I know they’ll get done right.  If they get done wrong, well then no one has disappointed me but myself.  I enjoy taking risks but not gambling? I’m impulsive with some things and I take my sweet time with others. Gah, will the rest of my 20s be this?! This constant reflecting/soul searching bundle of confusion?

I’ve come to terms with this whole control freak thing.  This has been validated through those moments of trying new things and realizing that they just aren’t my cup of tea.  You know what pisses me off more than not having control? Being told I need to lighten up.  Word of advice?

Don’t tell a control freak to lighten/loosen up or to relax.  We’re pretty aware of the fact that we need to relax, we know how to relax, and we have it scheduled in our planers just how, when, where, and why we intend on relaxing.  We don’t need your command or your suggestion of what is relaxing. See yourself out, thank you.

Now if only everyone else around me will accept this fact and let me be my controlling self.  I feel that people should treat this trait of mine as if it were a religion. I accept this as a way of life. If I’m not imposing it on your life, kindly let me live the way I choose to.

Forgive the rant. I just hate that decisions are currently up in the air, waiting for someone else to return for their vacation and act on them. Instead, I sit here silently freaking out, distracting my mind with crafts, my cats, and the pool that awaits me.

Le sigh. Someone just hire me.

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Combatting Realities

I had two very serious realizations recently: time stops for no one and in just two months my life will be entirely different. 

My co-worker recently lost her great grandmother.  In talking with her and attempting to console her, I was reminded of my grandfather’s death 12 years ago.  His death impacted my family in so many ways but it also marked the first real encounter with death for me and most of my cousins.  Naturally, once your brain begins to tick, there’s no telling where it will end up.  I started thinking of the next eldest members in my family (my grandma and her sister).  My heart dropped beyond my feet once my mind crept into that place.  I asked my co-worker how old her great-grandmother was and she replied with a proud response of 83.

As if my heart hadn’t dropped enough.  My grandmother Is 80 years old (although most would think she’s a mere 65) and she’s sprightly, talkative, always down to go out and loves her libations. She can still tear up a dance floor and she creeps more on Facebook than a 14 year old girl.  It’s hard to accept the fact that she’s an 80 year old woman because of how she carries herself, but in the peace of night you can see where Father Time has had a few checkups with her.  She’s achy, a little bit slower both mentally and physically, and her patience has be worn thin.  I pray that we ring in her 90th birthday the way we brought in her 80th but there is no promise in tomorrow.  This realization hit me like a ton of bricks.  Cherish the ones you love, make them tell you their life’s story, and spend time with them.

So in two months time, I’ll be fulfilling my dream of moving down to Louisiana for a year of service.  This realization hit me as I walked out of the Student Union of my college.  That familiar and comfortable feeling will not be present in just a few weeks.  I’ll be in a super-humid place, fighting my curls and figuring out how to become a local in one of this country’s greatest cities.  Coincidentally a pang of guilt struck me because I will be so far from my friends and family.  This reality combats the aforementioned reality.  My communication abilities with my family will have to increase.  Therefore, I’ve decided to begin an old fashioned…. (drum roll please…) ADDRESS BOOK.  A tangible item with addresses and phone numbers so that I can send physical cards, letters, and packages.

Here’s to loved ones, life dreams, and physical mail, ya’ll.

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