Time Suckage

I have sadly become the master of time suckage. Looking busy, feeling busy (which is crazy now that I consider it really....) But seriously, I could easily find myself feeling like I'm working a dead-end job, I'm inferior, I'm unnoticed, and I'm unimportant. However, within my inner dialogue I have to quickly remind myself that I'm choosing to work in this capacity. It is my decision to work reception- to answer phones, greet guests, be friendly SO THAT...(here is where my work comes in) I can write. Ah, the artists life. The creators setbacks. The writers block!

I declared aloud today to my co-worker, "Why do I write? I'm over it. Who cares? I think I'll just stop. Stop now- forever. I need a new hobby."

I know I could be good at a different job. I could learn a skill and be a diligent, hardworking employee earning six figures. I could get a job doing something else (like, oh, perhaps what I went to school for). But that wouldn't be what I'm supposed to be doing. And even now the reason I feel so mediocre is because I'm doing a mediocre job at the work I am supposed to be doing.

I miss creating things. This weekend I spent a few hours Saturday and Sunday viewing several hundred photographs, cropping and manipulating and being all artsy. I'd love to actually do something with all these photographs I have taken. If only this PC were a MAC! I hate spending time at my computer at home after I get off work- after I've spent eight hours staring at a computer monitor. I could hang my photos in my own home, print them for friends be one of those people at Union Square with a card table. (Not that my blog has been decorated very nicely lately.)Yesterday I brought a portable memory stick with me from home with lots of pictures from my lovely home Apple computer- but when I put it in the USB port my PC claimed it was not formated. Bogus...! Insaine! Whatever! Stupid PC. So, I'll share pics with you again eventually.

NY is just so rushed. Everything is rushed. And I am personally proud of myself for being content and alone in my apartment Sunday afternoon from 3:00pm until I crashed around 10:30pm. I'm so freaking fidgety and unsettled- which stems from a little discontent and my desire to always be doing. I made myself not go to Yoga and not go wander and not run errands. It was nice. It makes me wonder if NY will ever feel like home to me. Does this pace of life ever feel normal to anyone or do we all just deal with it?

I know life is going to unfold as it may and God is God (and we are not!) but it's odd if you consider how much time we spend (and money we spend) on trivial things. Things that will not matter - but it seems to matter now and little, trivial, sometimes unimportant things make me happy- like licorice and eye creams and flowers.

I just want my life to matter- we all just want our lives to matter. We want to know that what we are doing is not overlooked or insignificant or pointless. And even though I know the church answer that my value and worth come from identifying myself in Christ I often forget. Like every day.