I’m sitting here about to go to sleep for the night, and I have thoroughly enjoyed this week off.  I got to travel a bit, see my sister and my parents, saw a Great Lake, watched a few movies, caught up on Grey’s Anatomy, cleaned 75% of my apartment (with the hopes of getting the last 25%–the bedroom–done tomorrow), hosted book club this morning, got a few workouts, grocery shopped, cooked, read a book…all the things I’ve been missing.  Or I’ve been doing but not felt free to enjoy.

But I know, I can’t quite slip into “summer mode.”  Because in 24 hours, I need to be prepared for three weeks of classes.  Heavy classes.  Class 45 hours a week, plus homework or projects or whatever.  And normally, I’d be fine.  I would like to think so, anyway.  But today my book club friends and I got into a discussion about doing God’s purpose…and I recommended the book The Dream Giver to someone who is in the midst of this same turmoil that I have felt for so long.  And I know, I can’t read it right now.  Because it would best if, for the next three weeks, I was gung-ho motivated to be a better teacher.

I realize the fact that I feel the need to make that last statement implies some underlying issues, but I just can’t go there right now.  These classes are expensive, I have committed to them, and I need to do well.  I can’t be all despairing about my choices.

Another friend brought up the idea of glorifying God by being the best version of yourself.  I have been blessed with many gifts I do not deserve, I could do many things well, including be an excellent teacher.  I could be excellent at many various things.  So how do I know what the best version of myself is? 

I was watching an old episode of Grey’s Anatomy yesterday…because after catching up and watching the season finale, I just couldn’t leave Seattle Grace Hospital behind for the next three months!…and I was watching one of the doctors fight for her job.  She found out that the promotion she was applying for was no longer available, and so she was basically losing her job.  And it was pretty funny, actually, she was outside the cheif’s office where everyone could hear her, and she was like:  “I am an excellent surgeon.  I am excellent!  I’m a rockstar.  I build arms and legs from nothing, like God.  I’m too much of a rockstar for you to even say my name.”  And so on.  She was mad, and she was ranting, and it’s totally a work of fiction.  Workplace dramas are dramatic, of course.  But she was fighting so passionately for her job.

I know I don’t have it in me to feel that kind of passion for my job.

(I realize that at some point, I need to stop talking about it and do something about it.  I do realize that.)

(Apparently, I’m just not ready.)

(Also, I don’t know what to do.  And this job pays better than Hy-Vee, and comes with a nice long vacation.)

I am committed.  I am committed to these classes.  I am committed to fulfilling the contract I signed last week for another year of work.  Do I know what I really want?  Not really.  Are these classes getting me closer to what I want?  Honestly, no.  Especially if I don’t really know what I want.  But, these classes will move me up the pay scale a little faster, which will help me pay off debt faster, which will help me get closer to what I really want.  Whatever that is.

And in three weeks, I get a nice long summer vacation.  Then I can think about this some more.


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