stories about life and God · stories about school

why i stayed.

part 1:[written december 14th, 2013]

when i first set a countdown to graduation, there were 864 days on it. this was at a hard time in my life when i just couldn’t deal with school on top of everything else going on. it seemed like an eternity away.
this is the part where normal people would say “and then i blinked and that day was today,” or maybe, “but it flew by before i ever realized it.” but i’m anything but normal.
to me, it felt like four eternities.

for real.

normal people would then say, “now i’m so sad it’s over.” again, i don’t do normal.
i wish it had ended months ago.
mentally, my semester ended on october 21st. that was the day everything that meant anything ended.

friday night after graduation, my friend came up to me at work and asked if i was sad to be done, and i said “no, i’ve been counting down for over two years.” he replied “then WHY did you stay? i mean, why was it even worth it to finish?”

that’s a valid question.

honestly, college was four years of disappointment punctuated by occasional happy surprises. that’s not me being negative; it’s just the truth.
but you know, not all good things are easy.
i stayed because God wanted me to finish.
i stayed because there was no other way for me to learn everything i learned.
i stayed because too many people had either outright claimed or just implied that i couldn’t do it, and the rebellious child in me wanted to prove them wrong.
now that it’s over, i can look at it objectively enough to realize that it’s okay that it was so hard. because even though i hated it, it was exactly what God needed it to be in order to get me where he wants me to be.
i’m really not bitter. i know college is supposed to be the best days of your life, but i got my best days early; high school was the happiest i’ve ever been. i should have known better than to expect my whole life to be as good as that.

part 2:[written today]
i honestly and truly HATED college, with every fiber in my being. i’m not being dramatic, and since i’m saying this two months later, i’m definitely not just saying that because i’m in the middle of a hard week of classes. people told me i would miss it after graduation. they said once it was all over, i’d realize it wasn’t as hard as it felt at the time.
nope. i hated it. i still have nightmares about it. it really was my hell on earth.
but i also honestly and truly believe that that’s how it was supposed to be.

i’ve always needed to learn things the hard way. nothing sticks in my brain unless it’s been ground into it with as much pain as possible.

of all the lessons God used those hellish four years to teach me, i’ve finally pinpointed the most important one.
when life is good, i forget to thank God for it. college was what he needed to break me of that.
i made it have to be that hard. he gave me chances to take the easy way out. he constantly gave me good things, put good people in my life, then i’d worship the things instead of him and depend on the people for my fulfillment instead of him.
and so he’d take the gifts away to test if i’d learned yet…and i’d fall apart. every time was worse than the last. each time when things got good again, my Jesus high would last a little longer than the one before it, but it would always go downhill eventually. i was only excited about him because he was giving me good things.

in the calm before the storm that was november 2012, i read this devotion from Jesus Calling.

Though I have brought many pleasures into your life, not one of them is essential. Receive My blessings with open hands. Enjoy My good gifts, but do not cling to them. Turn your attention to the Giver of all good things, and rest in the knowledge that you are complete in Me. The one thing you absolutely need is the one thing you can never lose: My Presence with you.

now i knew what i was supposed to be learning. the lesson was in my head; now it would take 15 months for it to settle into my heart.
from then on, i tried every time things got bad to remember that i needed to be turning to God instead of to people or grades or sports or my car. but he still kept letting things happen.
i wasn’t really trusting him; i was telling him i trusted him, saying the magic words so that he’d let me keep what i thought would really fix my life.
when all along i’d always had everything i needed.

i’m not sure when i learned it; i’ve only realized in the last week that i did.
i thought about how my post-graduate life is nothing like i expected or wanted it to be...
-i’ve only gotten two donations to my World Race fund in the past six weeks.
-it took me seven weeks to get a job, and i spent those seven weeks feeling restless and frustrated and just not happy. watching tv for 12 hours a day isn’t as satisfying when you’re only doing it because you have literally nothing better to do.
-and i don’t love my job. i don’t hate it; i actually like it a little bit. but i don’t get sad when i wake up on my day off, and that’s weird to me because i’ve never had a job that i didn’t absolutely love.
…and i found myself more fully content than i’ve ever been in any time that things happened just how i wanted them to.

so then i wrote this, which got me processing exactly how i got there…and now we’re here.

the only thing i need is the only thing i’ll never lose.
he is perfect, and he’s totally worth every bit of suffering i had to go through to get to the point where i understood that.

every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.~james 1:17

delight yourself in the Lord and he will give you the desires of your heart.~psalm 37:4

rambles on ciu sports

painful perspective.

our second game last night beat me up a little. i was hurting pretty bad last night, but today i can barely move.

have you learned anything new yet today? let me help you out. here are some things you may not have realized you can’t do with only one working thumb and a neck that can’t turn.

1. driving.
2. washing dishes.
3. putting my hair in a ponytail.
4. brushing my hair(it’s easy enough to do one-handed, but it hurts my neck).
5. lifting heavy pans of food.
6. typing(i’d never realized that i always hit the space bar with my left thumb, never my right. it’s a difficult habit to break).
7. brushing my teeth(again, that somehow puts pressure on my neck…i think i must work too hard at it).
8. drinking without a straw(leaning my head back hurts too)
9. running(who knew the shock moves all the way from the ground to my feet to my neck and shoulders?).
10. opening doors(there are a surprising number of simple things that i automatically do with my left hand, considering that i’m right-handed).

but just like how my heart and lung issues have gotten me into the habit of thanking God every time i manage to take a deep breath, this too is showing me little things i never thought to be thankful for.

it makes me feel really sad for that Soul Surfer girl and other people like her. at least i have both my arms even if i can’t use the thumb on one of them for a few weeks. =]

SOCB's · stories about nothing and everything · stories about school

if you put a scared-of-the-dark-insomniac in a single room…their whole hall will smell like burnt plastic.

if you put linda in a single room, she will be unable to sleep in the dark.

if linda is unable to sleep in the dark, she will sleep with the lights on.

if linda sleeps with the lights on, she will be unable to fall fully asleep.

if linda is unable to ever fall totally asleep, she will google “how to fall asleep.”

if linda googles “how to fall asleep,” she will find that she needs a dark room.

if linda needs a dark room, she will try to make her room as dark as possible without cutting off the lights.

if linda tries to make her room as dark as possible without cutting off the lights, she will wrap her movable-flower-petal lamp up as tight as she can with a white t-shirt.

if linda wraps her lamp in a t-shirt, the heat from the lightbulb will all get trapped inside.

if the heat from the lightbulb gets trapped inside, the plastic flower petal shell around it will melt.

if the plastic flower petal shell melts, it will make the whole hall smell like burnt plastic.

and so, that is why if you put linda in a single room, her whole hall will smell like burnt plastic.

to put it simply: i am scared of the dark. i mean legitimately, cripplingly terrified. if the lights are off and i’m alone, i start to have a panic attack.
but i also have insomnia, so good sleep is a rare but necessary thing for me. apparently it’s really really bad for my sleep patterns if i sleep with lights on. like, even having a digital clock in sight can mess me up. i never knew that had anything to do with my waking up constantly throughout the night, since i’ve always thought i was one of those people who light doesn’t bother, but after reading about it, it explains a lot.
so last night i decided to make the best of both worlds: i’d make my lamp dimmer by covering it up. that way i still wouldn’t be in the dark, but the light also couldn’t get to me and wake me up.
what i hadn’t considered was the fact that lights get hot when you leave them on all night, and that heat needs to go somewhere. when it doesn’t have anywhere to go, it’ll just bounce around and burn whatever is around it.

well i wake up this morning to this awful burning smell. i automatically assumed that something was wrong with my heater, so i cut that off.

it wasn’t until i was unwrapping my shirt from the lamp that i found the problem.

so not only is my cute lamp ruined(well, two of the five petals; the switch lets you have either two, three or five on at a time), but my cross country shirt has burnt plastic fused into its fabric.

thankfully i’m sleep-deprived enough to find all of this hilarious. =]

rambles on ciu sports

happy kinds of pain.

battle wounds that make me happy:

-finding a bruise exactly between my ankle and the center of the top of my foot because i’ve been doing my punts perfectly.

-finding bruises on my shoulder, side and hip because i’ve been diving right.

-breaking my finger because i smacked the ball out of the goal with one hand.

-getting a concussion because i headed the ball away with my face.

battle wounds that make me mad:

-breaking my thumb by smashing it into the ground while crawling after a ball that proceeds to roll right past me.

-pulling my shoulder by reaching too far for a ball that chips over my head.

-getting a concussion from someone stepping on my head as they make a shot.

but, bright side up either way? i get all of them by having fun, and they all make great stories. =)

stories about nothing and everything · stories about school

why [it seems like] i never write anymore+random recent thoughts.

one of my friends(aka one of the only three people who ever read this) commented that i hadn’t written anything in a while and she missed it.

this makes me sad.

but the funny thing is, i feel like i write all the time. it’s just that no one else can tell, because i never post anything. i try…really really hard. you should see my list of drafts on here.

i’ve been having the worst time finishing anything. not just blog posts. i mean books i try to read, movies i try to watch, nights i try to sleep through(seriously, i lay in bed for an hour, can’t sleep, get up and do other things then go back to bed when i’m about to fall over).

i don’t not want to write. i’m not sick of it. i don’t have writer’s block; if anything i have too many things to write about(probably one more reason i can’t finish anything, i’m working on nine at a time).

i miss sharing my thoughts with people. since i’m extroverted practically to the point of dysfunction, i hate keeping anything inside my head. even if only three people read a post, it’s comforting to know that it’s at least out there for anyone who might come across it.

so, just so i can have the satisfaction of clicking “publish” and waiting to see if it gets read, and to avoid the irony of letting this post sit in my drafts for months before i finally finish it, here’s a couple of the things i’ve been thinking about. most have a post-in-the-making about them. actually i’ll make it easy: if it has a star by it, don’t expect to hear more about it.

1. costa rica. one post is a just a long list of everything we did, almost like reading my journal, but far less detailed and slightly less personal. the next is on things that surprised me while i was there(if anyone who went with me happens to be reading this, yes i do mean the list that you saw me writing on every time we got back to the hotel). then i have one on serious life lessons from God, and another on not-so-serious lessons from observing the world around me.

2. CONVERGE!!!!!! this was God’s sequel to the turning inside out of my life that he did in costa rica. every second of the weekend, i was either talking to people about camp, having my heart’s eyes wrenched further open than i knew they could go, or just having crazy fun. it was one of the best three day times of my life, and i haven’t stopped talking about it ever since…but there’s so much to write about that it’s overwhelming me out of finishing any of my three posts about it.

3. leadership.
4. discipleship.
5.* how much bookstore owners must hate me. i sit on their floor for hours reading a book, then never buy anything.
6. how my life plans are dramatically changing.
7.* the impossibly bipolar weather. it was 38 degrees when i was getting ready for class this morning, so i bundled up in more layers than someone climbing everest would, only to find, when i walked out of chapel three hours later, that the temperature had jumped up 30 degrees higher. seriously south carolina, your mood changes faster than my opinion of ciu.

and…DONE. sigh.

stories about life and God · stories about school

gifts vs skills.

i’m not good at admitting when i’m good at something, unless i’ve worked hard and practiced it for a long time.
for instance, i have no trouble jumping around my room rejoicing to my roommate that i got a 98 on an exam, because that’s not normal. school is the hardest thing in the world for me, and i studied the crap out of that for literally two entire days, and even after that i hadn’t expected even a 90.
or if i get a good time in a race. running is probably the second hardest thing in the world. so when i get up at the crack of dawn and push myself half to death for three months, of course i’ll pat myself on the back for it at the end.

yesterday in class i realized why this is. a skill is something you have to work at. you feel accomplished when you get better at it. it doesn’t come naturally to you and never will, but it can get easier, and you can improve in it. eventually you may totally fool people into thinking it’s easy for you.

but a gift is something you absolutely can’t take credit for, because you didn’t work for it. God just gave it to you. you aren’t born perfect at it; you can learn more about how to use it, or how to put it to different or better uses. you might be good at using it in a way that others aren’t, and there may be ways that you have trouble using it that others are good at, but you still don’t see it as hard for you.

also, you love it. you enjoy using it. you look for ways to work it into your life. when you aren’t using it, or can’t, you feel like something’s missing. 

writing is definitely a gift. no one taught it to me. i’ve always loved it, and i’ve always been good at it.
i’ve never been, and never will be, the best in the world at it.
i’m not close to perfect at it.
but it’s easy, and i love it more than anything. when i’m not doing it i go crazy. i honestly can’t function when i don’t have time to write(which is why, even though i have a paper to be writing right now, i’m writing this instead, because i haven’t in too long and i couldn’t focus or get anything done until i took a break). it’s comforting. it makes everything make sense.

it used to bug me when people would call me a good writer. i had no idea what to say, since it isn’t something i had to spend years learning and practicing.
but i’ve realized that’s because God is the only one who can take any credit for it. when people compliment me for it, it’s a chance to brag on God.
and because he gave it to me, i get to use it for him. that’s the craziest thing of all to me.

gifts and skills don’t have to be mutually exclusive. some things that are gifts for one person can be a skill for another.

like speaking. there are lots of people who are naturally gifted speakers, and there are plenty of people who aren’t gifted but can become good speakers with practice.

i am not gifted at speaking. i will never be good at speaking. after one class in high school, two in college, and too many awkward times of being forced into it, i’ve gotten to be a barely acceptably decent speaker. but it will never get any easier for me, and i’ll never ever enjoy it.

and i’ve learned that those, and other good-at-this-but-not-at-that situations, are okay.

i’m in the middle of writing a paper about my gifts and how God is going to use them in my life. my thesis is that whatever God’s call is for someone, it will include all of their gifts and passions, because if God gave them to us, why would he want any of them to go unused?

i learned that in costa rica.

so even though right now, i can’t see any way that God can take all these things that i love…
-middle schoolers
-living life with people
-showing people what they’re good at(one thing i learned from CIU 101: that’s called being a developer)

…and make them into one plan for my life, i know that he will someday. he’ll take all those little bits of color, which are nice enough to look at individually, and make them into a picture that to me will be the most beautiful thing in the world. to other people it might not look so great, but that’s okay because God has different pictures that are perfect for them.

everyone who’s following God is following him in a slightly different direction. the reason we’re all so confused about where to go is because we’re looking at each other instead of at him.

stories about life and God · stories about school

then God said "pause." and it was so.

in the words of my dear friend lexi, let me tell you about my night.

my living room currently looks like my semester exploded in it. my bible charts are all over the floor, and the couch is literally covered in notes for communicating God’s word and marriage &family, except for a me-shaped space* which is only there because i just got up and fled from the mess to listen to my last lecture for my online philippians class in the kitchen.
i have one more lecture and one more reflection assignment to do tonight, a one page book review and three exams tomorrow, then by friday i have to finish an 8 page paper, a lesson plan, and 19 bible chart frames.

in the middle of working on too many things at once, i came across this and took a five minute study break to read it.
i liked it, but i was busy, so i tried to forget about it.
but i kept thinking about it. and suddenly i felt okay to take a break and write something.

so i thought more about that, because it’s really good, and because as you probably know if you’ve spent any time with me or have read anything else i’ve ever written: i am bad at slowing down. i hear the word “rest” and instantly start to go stir crazy.
but i realized that i’ve been learning what rest actually is.

slowing down doesn’t require us to stop. it just means a temporary change of pace.

when i’m running a race and my coach tells me to slow down, he isn’t telling me to walk, or to never pick my speed back up again, or that i’m doing something wrong, and he definitely isn’t telling me to stop. he just means that i’m doing good, but in order to run the rest of the race the best i can, i need to take my pace back just a bit, for just a while, so i’m not dying at the end. i’m not being lazy if i’m not running my absolute hardest the entire race; anyone who tries to do that is being stupid and will never finish a race well, if at all.

if i keep going my hardest for too long, then i will have to stop. and when i start back, not even my fastest sprint will get me done as good as i planned at the beginning.

and when God tells me to put down my books and breathe for a minute, he’s not saying that the hard work i’ve been doing is a bad thing. he doesn’t want me to give up. but if i want to continue doing as well as i have, i need to take a break.

i sprinted too long this semester. so i had to stop. and if i had only listened to God and rested more in the middle, i wouldn’t be working myself to death this week.

but even this short break at 3 am has helped; i’m already feeling more motivated. so i’m getting back to my all nighter now, and i hope somehow in the midst of all the projects and exams and last minute things you have going on, God gives you a little rest in whatever way you like it best.

*seriously. if you look at the edge of the pile of papers, you can totally see exactly how i was sitting. things like this make me wish i had instagram.

stories about school

why i’m [not] a psych major.

the following is a post that i found in my drafts. it was called “why i’m a psych major.” i started it fall of my sophomore year. when i first came to ciu and people would try to guess my major, they’d always guess youth ministry. so i wanted to write something defending my atypical psych major self.
but as i’m about to write after i let you read this, i’m not at all meant for psych.
90% of people guess youth ministry when they don’t know my major. and it makes sense. i’m fun and loud and love kids, i work with a youth group during the year and at a camp in the summer…all i need to do is start wearing chacos and declare an outdoor leadership minor, and i’ll fit the stereotype exactly.
and while i usually like that people guess that because it means they’ve seen my real self, i wish that more people noticed the things that make me perfect for psych. i know i’m not quiet or introverted or smart, and i hate school, but other than that…
1. i love people.
2. i care about people.
3. i want to understand them.
4. i could listen to their stories all day.
5. i love hearing people’s honest thoughts or feelings. this is why i could read postsecret all day. i get a look at people’s real hearts.
6. everyone’s mind is different, and they’re all fascinating. i want to know how every single one works.
7. i have a talent for loving crazy people that everyone else turns away.
8. i love showing people hope.
9. i LOVE to diagnose people. if i’ve hung out with you for a significant length of time, i’ve likely made up a profile in my head for you.
10. i am the least judgmental person in the world. i let people be exactly who they are, and i like to encourage people to be real.
11. i want to help kids get out of terrible homes, and into one where they’ll get the love they deserve. apparently i need a psych degree for that.
all of those things* are still true about me today. so why did i change?
it wasn’t just because i was sick of having to correct people. though that was a nice little bonus.
there were a lot of reasons.
and a slight disclaimer, i’m not at all knocking psych majors. my whole point here is that people are made for different things, and if you were made for psych then more power to you.

1. psychology is such a book-focused major. the more i looked at the classes i’d have to take, the more i realized that i wouldn’t enjoy school at all if i stuck with this. i like reading little things here and there for fun, but i didn’t want to spend a whole semester learning about this stuff for a grade.
2. i didn’t want to go to grad school, and 90% of careers that would require me to have a psych degree would want me to have a masters.
3. i realized that while those ten things were true, they were pointed in a different direction than they would for someone else.
4. i felt like all those passions i have would be wasted in a classroom. youth min is all experiential. instead of writing research papers and doing hypothetical case studies, i want to learn by doing. you can’t exactly learn how to counsel by counseling, since that’s a pretty serious thing, but you can learn how to speak to youth by speaking to youth.

and over the summer and this semester especially, i’ve found even more reasons that i definitely made the right decision.

5. i hate research papers. i had to write one for my marriage and family class and within the first hour that i sat down with a big stack of books, i was on the verge of tears. i don’t want to deal with theoretical families, i want to love on real ones! i would have much rather interviewed ten families with distant fathers than looked up facts in books.
6. i love relationships. i found that no matter what i did on the psych front, i would only know people on the surface. social workers have to love a child for as long as it takes to get them out of their situation, then let them go and never contact them again when it’s done. that’s a necessary job, my heart is too big to fill one of them. God needs me someplace where i can love a child for their whole life.
7. i do want to know how people’s minds work, but not in such a deep scientific way as to need to study the brain for four years. the true colors, myers-briggs and the five love languages are enough for me.
8. i love doing life with people. that’s why i love camp so much. every week i get a new little family. we get to know each other, and then we get to love each other. we go through everything together. and the next summer they come back to me. as much as i love church youth ministry, i know that’s not where my full time, post-graduation calling is. i’ll end up living with teenage girls somewhere somehow.
9. i’ve been through too much to not share it. psych-type jobs require you to be objective to a point, and keep yourself out. it would be a waste of the story God made me live through if i was never allowed to tell it.

basically, i don’t care about the nitty gritty details of mental disorders or the generally common effects of traumatic experiences. i want to know the heart of the person who has the disorder or went through the junk.
i actually care about the answer to that “how does this make you feel” question that people make fun of.
i don’t listen so i can try to fit people in a box. i listen because i love that person.
while people do need help finding a label for their problem, i’d rather do the helping that involves going through the struggle with them.
i can’t give big answers, but i can give big hugs.
i may not understand the ins and outs of your problem, but i understand hurt.
i can’t always figure out what’s wrong with you, but i can listen to the news when someone else tells you what’s wrong.

this post is to be continued. in another one.

*except for number 11. while i do still hurt for kids in bad homes, i couldn’t do that as my job. the one DSS case i had at camp was the most heart wrenching situation i’ve ever been in and i don’t ever want to be that deeply involved in something like that again. i get too attached.

stories about nothing and everything · stories about school

i. am. so. full.

before work, i was looking at my calendar to figure out when i’m free for a weekend. and i was complaining that i hate being constantly booked like this, thinking i need more room for spur of the moment things…then i had to go to work, proving my point as i wished i had time to sit and write my thoughts about being busy.

but work is always good time to think, so i finished my thoughts and i not only finally discovered the difference between “having your cake and eating it too” and “between a rock and a hard place” as i’ve tried to figure out for years(the first is for decisions where all the choices are good, the second is for decisions between things that you don’t want to do but you have to pick one), i also decided my life is pretty great.

small side note, this summer at staff training we took this personality test, and the four types were colors. oranges like spontaneity, golds like plans, greens like whatever is most logical depending on the situation, and blues like whatever satisfies the people around them. if you hadn’t already guessed, whether by knowing me or just by reading what i’ve already said, i’m an orange.

i don’t like set-in-stone things. i like the freedom to wake up on thursday with no plans for the weekend, then find something crazy to do. surprises leave no room for disappointment; plans and anticipation suck out the fun.
this semester, i have so few hours that aren’t pre-filled. not because i’ve suddenly gotten good at scheduling; i just have too many things automatically scheduled for me. classes, chapel, work, cross country practice, football practice, meets, even my sleep is planned out. and for the hours that i do get to choose what i want with them, that mostly just means i get to choose what homework i do in them.

but oranges are also adaptable and resourceful; so if i have to live like a gold for awhile, i can find a way to be happy with it.

so today as i found that i only have two free weekends between now and christmas break, i thought to myself “when do i have time to do things i WANT to do between all the things i HAVE to do?” and i realized, i really want to do all these things i have to do.
1. classes.
i LOVE my classes this semester. every one of them. it took me forever to finally decide on a “least favorite” because i like them all so much. i actually want to learn all the things i’m learning in them.

2. chapel.
i don’t know if i just wasn’t trying enough to listen before or if we’ve gotten better speakers this year, but somehow i look forward to chapel every day now. i never feel like skipping.

3. work.
as if it wasn’t enough that i don’t need to drive to it and the hours are crazy flexible, i really like my job. i get paid to people-watch, listen to random conversations, and make people laugh. sure i do all of that while standing on a sticky floor behind a hot counter and putting nasty leftover food on plates that burn my hands, but i usually don’t think much about that with all that other fun going on.

4. cross country practice.
this is my favorite part of the day. even in the beginning when i still hated running, it was worth it for the awesome people i get to suffer with. now that i like what i’m doing, it actually feels like a break from everything else.

5. football practice.
i can find no possible complaints here. i didn’t realize until our first one how much i’ve missed real sports. yes i like running, but i need something to do with my hands once in a while. cross country is a break from life…football is a break from cross country.

6. sleep.
oddly enough, i LIKE being forced to get up early. by the time i go to class, i’ve been awake for 3 hours and i actually feel like getting things done. and i don’t mind as much as i thought i would having to go to bed early in order to survive early mornings. this is the first time in my life i’ve actually gotten enough sleep; if my schedule were wide open i’d end up going to bed at midnight and sleeping in until ten minutes before class like i always have before. this way i get way more done and i’m never stressed.

7. meets.
no need for explanation. i’ve already written plenty about how much i love everything about them, from the road trip to the races. i’m totally willing to give up every one of my saturdays for that.
so even though my life is full, it’s not the kind of full where i have too much on my plate and not enough time to eat it all. i have just enough time for everything, and the fact that i’m always spending that time doing something that makes me happy makes up for the lack of spare time.

stories about life and God · stories about school

when God forces my needs on me.

i don’t like that i need people. i like people(ok, love them more than anything), i just don’t like that i need them. i want to be free to only be with them when i want to.

small side note to explain some of this. as i’ve griped about in my past two posts, i hurt my ankle last week and haven’t been able to run the past six days. and all week i’ve been in the WORST mood.
i also haven’t been hungry all week, and only realized yesterday that i’ve eaten probably less than 500 calories a day all week. so i got a little concerned and googled reasons for this, and i found the answer to everything bad about my week.
see, when your body is used to lots of vigorous exercise ALL the time(such as running 5-7 miles a day), and then you abruptly stop that routine, your hormones can get screwed up and make you get cranky and lose your appetite.

which is apparently why all week, i have NOT wanted to be with people. but i knew all week that i needed them and would feel much better if were with some.
so yesterday when i had one of those supremely awful days where everything just seems to go wrong and when it’s finally over, all you want to do is go to bed, i picked up my phone to text my RA that i felt too sick to go on our hall date…and then God says to me in his exasperated what-are-you-doing-you-silly-child voice, “GO.” i look up and out loud say, “do i HAVE to?” and as with any time i ask him an obvious question, i got nothing. he knew i knew the answer.

a few hours later i’m happier than i’ve been in two weeks.
life is better with company.