Oh crap, I don't want to answer, it's probably a job offer. That's what I thought the day after my interview. So I didn't answer the phone; I let it go to voice mail. And then today when a 399 number came in, I knew it was the school district. So I didn't answer. I knew why they were calling: an interview.
I've got a fear; it's apparent now. If you had asked me when I applied to those jobs "Joelle, will you ignore the calls for interviews when they come?" I would've said no. But now we know something about my heart. It's terrified.
I hate making big decisions. I'm a person who commits long term, so I take things seriously. Even though I have been offered zero jobs so far, I'm freaking out. I want to choose the right thing. I hate choices.
I used to have a five year plan. Now I barely have five week plans. But I have Things I'm Meant To Do. Which is why I get all twisted up inside when I think about how other life choices may hinder the Things I'm Meant To Do. What I'd really like is a 20 page document from God detailing the specifics for the next few years. I hate being unsure. This isn't like buying shoes from Target. You can't return them if you decide you don't want them.
Saying Yes is a big deal. I only want to say Yes to what God is asking of me, and that's why I hate that he let's us decide. I feel like I'm being really vague. Or just plain weird. Basically, if you are the praying kind, pray for me. For clarity.
Monday, August 27, 2012
Friday, August 24, 2012
Behind the coats: Narnia?
Sometimes I write clever stories or really deep thoughts about life. This contains neither. Instead, I'm going to tell you about my latest petty dilemma that matters not at all. In fact, you probably shouldn't waste your time here.
I just found out my brilliant roommate who is a chemist just got a job with a pharmaceutical company and now she will get to make drugs. So in a few weeks, I'll have an empty room. These are my thoughts about said room:
1) I could find another roommate to pay 1/3 of the rent, as before.
2) I could turn the room into an office, because Lord knows I've got enough books and office supplies and files and whatnot to fill one.
3) I could turn the room into a wardrobe closet.
My life is tough, I know. I've wanted to turn one of my other rooms into a closet for just about ever, but I'm really not into fashion and hardly spend more than 20 minutes getting ready, so dedicating a 10 by 10 foot space just to my clothes seems really outside my personality. Maybe my imagination just wants to play Jessica Simpson for a while. You know, pretend like I'm glamorous and don't buy most of my clothes at Target.
In case you are wondering, (which I know you weren't) I actually do have a lot of clothes, mostly because I never get rid of anything and still have shirts from my high school years. So really what I need is an intervention from TLC's What Not to Wear. Then again, my sense of style might improve if I'm able to more easily see the options I have available. Or not.
The illogical part of my brain says "when will you ever again have a chance to dedicate an entire room just to your clothes? It's every girl's dream. Do it." But then the logical part of my brain says "Actually, you'll probably have this chance for a real long time. Because it's not like you have kids yet. Or a husband. Or even a date, for that matter."
During the times when my extra rooms have not been filled with rent-paying roommates, I've thought about other kinds of uses for them. Once, I thought about getting a dog for a roommate, and he could have had his very own space. Another time I thought about turning my house into a private school/tutoring center. I also thought about becoming a foster mom, but then realized yeah right am I ready for that right now. So the only thing my spare room has actually been is a mock drug lab.
My question for you is, if you had an extra room, what would you do with it?
I just found out my brilliant roommate who is a chemist just got a job with a pharmaceutical company and now she will get to make drugs. So in a few weeks, I'll have an empty room. These are my thoughts about said room:
1) I could find another roommate to pay 1/3 of the rent, as before.
2) I could turn the room into an office, because Lord knows I've got enough books and office supplies and files and whatnot to fill one.
3) I could turn the room into a wardrobe closet.
My life is tough, I know. I've wanted to turn one of my other rooms into a closet for just about ever, but I'm really not into fashion and hardly spend more than 20 minutes getting ready, so dedicating a 10 by 10 foot space just to my clothes seems really outside my personality. Maybe my imagination just wants to play Jessica Simpson for a while. You know, pretend like I'm glamorous and don't buy most of my clothes at Target.
In case you are wondering, (which I know you weren't) I actually do have a lot of clothes, mostly because I never get rid of anything and still have shirts from my high school years. So really what I need is an intervention from TLC's What Not to Wear. Then again, my sense of style might improve if I'm able to more easily see the options I have available. Or not.
The illogical part of my brain says "when will you ever again have a chance to dedicate an entire room just to your clothes? It's every girl's dream. Do it." But then the logical part of my brain says "Actually, you'll probably have this chance for a real long time. Because it's not like you have kids yet. Or a husband. Or even a date, for that matter."
During the times when my extra rooms have not been filled with rent-paying roommates, I've thought about other kinds of uses for them. Once, I thought about getting a dog for a roommate, and he could have had his very own space. Another time I thought about turning my house into a private school/tutoring center. I also thought about becoming a foster mom, but then realized yeah right am I ready for that right now. So the only thing my spare room has actually been is a mock drug lab.
My question for you is, if you had an extra room, what would you do with it?
Sunday, August 5, 2012
Shortest Story I've Told
When I was 11 years old, I had six teeth pulled out all at once by an oral surgeon. He retired the next day, and I ate yogurt for like three months. Also, I didn't have to floss for a year.
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