Packing Rhymes With Snacking (What I'd Rather Be Doing)

Guys. I am so not good at this blogging thing.

Do me a favor. Take a look at some posts from two or three years ago. Look how consistent I was! Are you impressed?

Here's another thing I'm not stellar at: packing.

I recently got back from a pretty super awesome trip, which I will (fingers crossed!) write about more later. But in the days leading up to said trip, I was preoccupied with "packing," loosely defined here as piles of random objects slowly inching closer and closer to my suitcase.

When it comes to packing, I am very visual. I don't like anything to be hidden away until right up until the last possible moment. Out of sight, out of mind. I just know I will forget what I've already packed, even if I check it off a list.

Yes, I love lists. No, I just don't feel like I can trust them when it comes to packing!

So my floor becomes a maze of shoes, leggings, Clif bars, scarves, lotions, books, etc. in piles that get larger and more spread out as the days go on. Sporadically, like a grumpy lumbering bear, I'll hulk around the piles and shuffle things around.

During the week of packing (it is an EVENT, I tell you!), I get to have fun nightmares where I have either forgotten something important on my trip or I have to pack in five minutes because I'm leaving early for some reason.

And then of course there are the items I need to pack that I truly do have to wait until the last minute for because I'm still using them (makeup, I'm talking to you).

For a girl who loves her lists, they are surprisingly unhelpful when it comes to packing. Not sure why. I will make them, but they are barely coherent and rarely consulted.

Packing helps me get excited for a trip so I can anticipate what I'll be doing, but it also makes me a nervous, disorganized wreck. I'll relax when it all gets UNpacked!

Confidence, Procrastination, & Footnotes.

Confidence is a fickle, fickle friend.

I've either got it or I don't got it. It's amazing how much my environment influences my feelings of confidence. One minute I'm top of the world, the next minute I am worthless.

Let's not dig too deep into this psychologically, let's just think a bit on how my confidence blooms or wavers when it comes to schoolwork, shall we?

Yuck. Schoolwork.

I promise you I used to be more focused when it comes to work. I blame the internet. Now suddenly I can't concentrate unless I have music playing, 17 windows open on Google Chrome, and a snack. Seriously, can I not work on a paper for more than ten minutes without having to read a blog post or refresh my Facebook?

Seriously. I am writing this blog post as a way to avoid an assignment. This is real.

And speaking of confidence (wow, off topic much?), I am always always always second-guessing myself when it comes to assignments.

"I've got all the time in the world!"

"I will never get all of this done!"

Sometimes "working on schoolwork" is really just me studying my calendar and planning how long I can put things off.

I go back and forth all the time. I will accomplish something and pat myself on the back, plan out the rest of my week, and feel good.

Then two hours later I am having trouble with my internet connection and realizing that APA citation style takes longer when you can't do it free on easybib.com. (Why different citation styles, why? I used MLA throughout my entire college career and now, out of nowhere, come footnotes?? Are you kidding me?)

My confidence is very fragile, apparently. I try with my lists to stay organized, but I give myself minor heart attacks when I all of a sudden think maybe I've forgotten to submit something. The nightmares aren't helping, either. Why are all my dreams about forgotten assignments? Am I that much of a nerd?

*Sigh* Okay, back to work. I've got a paper to write.

On the other hand, these fingernails aren't going to paint themselves.

Source

Speaking of footnotes, I sort of hate when fiction books do this. The author thinks it would be fun to interject random thoughts speaking as the main character, but it drives me bananas. Because I have to read every one. I have to.

Wait a Second. Bunnies Don't Lay Eggs!

It's hard to wrap my head around the fact that Easter is tomorrow.

Technically, it would be hard to wrap my head around anything. What a weird saying!

Anyway, I'm not reaching for my sundress or Easter bonnet quite yet. I'm still wearing my boots. The sun has peeked out, but it seems that there have been snow flurries in the air every day.

It will be a coldish Easter this year, but spring will come. Soon I will walk outside without a coat. I will see flowers. Snow will not cover dead grass; new plants will grow. Bunny rabbits will hop.

I can't wait for picnics in the park, hikes with friends, ice cream cones and the windows rolled down.

To me, spring is hope. New life. Getting rid of the old, the cold, the dead and bringing on the new, the warm, the living.

And that's what Easter means to me too! Hope. Sure, the extra chocolate is nice. The bunny bringing eggs is cute (though it makes no sense). The ham and potatoes are delicious. But to me, Easter is first about the hope of Jesus.

Because of Jesus, I don't have to trudge through life, being afraid and trying to find happiness in things that won't satisfy me. "But because of His great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions - it is by grace you have been saved." -Ephesians 2:4-5.

I was dead in my sin. Cold and hopeless. Now I'm alive in Him! I have a relationship with God, and I am loved far beyond what I deserve or understand. My future is not uncertain. No matter what happens, I have hope.

"Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In His great mercy He has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead." I Peter 1:3.

Happy Easter! Of course I have to share this video again!

I'm, Like, So Stressed Right Now.

I don't want to be stressed.

I don't even want "stress" to be a real word.

I know I can't not have everything I don't want.
(Hopefully you weren't too stressed reading that sentence...)

I know that. But I don't want stress.

Why does it seem like a competition, people comparing their stress levels?

"Oh, I just haven't had time to do that. I'm so stressed."

"I'm stretched way too thin. Things are so stressful right now."

"Wow, must be nice to be able to have time to do that. I'm so busy and stressed I won't be able to rest until I'm dead."

Well, fine. I hope you're pleased with how stressed you are. Seriously. Are you pleased? Because you certainly seem to enjoy it. And use it as an excuse.

It seems that the problem in our country today (don't you just love sentences that begin like this?) is that stress is a mark of honor. The busier you are, the more harried you are, the less time you have...these are all good things! Things to be celebrated! Hooray for you and your hectic life!

This should not be. When I am stressed, I evaluate my life. What am I putting time and energy and worry into? Am I wasting time? Am I saying yes to too many responsibilities? Am I taking time to do the important things well, instead of dealing with them as afterthoughts?

I don't think we should be proud when we're stressed. I think we should slow down.

 

In the Event of a Zombie Attack, Break Glass

I think it's important to have a plan.

This is true in an odd way when I hear strange noises. And start to worry.

I have to be alone for this to work. Alone and slightly creeped out.

Suddenly there's a creak or a BANG or a mooooaaaannnn. And I get strangely businesslike.

Okay, there is a criminal/ogre/zombie/etc. who is trying to break in/find me/kill me/etc. Let's try to think through this rationally. Where is the nearest weapon/exit/person? Who will hear me if I try to scream, or would that just be a waste of energy? Should I change my clothes real quick? Is this really the top I want to be wearing when I'm murdered? I mean, really... Should I try to be a hero and save the day, or simply try not to be taken to "the next location"? According to Oprah, I'm doomed if I get taken to the next location. There're so many more things I wanted to do with my life...

Worrying. Daydreaming. Planning. An overactive imagination. It all stews together in my brain, which apparently has nothing better to work on than escape routes out windows, or hiding places under beds (note to self after seeing Taken: does not work).

The best is thinking people have died if they're late to something.

She said she'd be back at 3 and it's 3:30! She's dead.

He said he'd meet me at 11 and it's 11:20. He's dead.

Might as well think through how I'd like the funeral to go. How sad I'll be having to live without this person for the rest of my life. How different things will be. Don't cry, Laura, don't cr-oh, there she is.

Somebody needs to practice thinking happy thoughts.

Come on now, I'm not sure how some people just prance through life, things just working out without any planning or worrying. I'm positive that all the worrying and irrational planning I do really helps my life work out. Replaying horrific scenarios in my head in the dark keeps me firmly planted in reality.

You really should consider thinking through some of this. It's like a weight is lifted off your chest when you can decide on precisely which emergency supplies you can pull together if you have to flee your house during a worldwide disaster to escape the looters.

Just sayin'.