back to "the grind" which, for most out there, means back to grumpy monday mornings followed by four more work days before diving headfirst into the weekend.
for me, it means about three waitressing shifts per week, playing beach volleyball in the mornings, grocery bags dangling from my handle bars, coffee shop visits where i appear as if i'm checking my stocks, and long walks where i attempt to lose myself. i lose everything: my inhibitions, my fears, my calories. i become a daydreamer vulnerable to being pummeled by a car, or at the very least, a pile of dog shit. the lyrics all blend together until all i can hear are the melodies and how they compliment my stride and the leaves beneath my feet. here, i am in flow. here, i am on my knees beside myself after just winning my first major volleyball tournament in front of my family and friends. here, i am flying to san francisco to promote my first book. here, i muster up the courage to grab his hand before he grabs mine.
but since i've returned from my three-week holiday i've been struggling with my emotions. it has always taken me a few extra days to just settle into the change in scenery, people, and obligations following a trip. it's as if "jet-lag" gave birth to a monster and i am its caretaker. my sense of place in this world is jostled, leading me to question everything. e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g. what is the meaning of life? why am i investing in a dream that will in all likelihood reap me no monetary return? is it inevitable that for every beautiful wife out there there is a husband who is tired of sleeping with her? i have two and a half men to thank for that one...
as you can imagine, this is about as fun as using the restroom in a guest's house and then realizing that there is no toilet paper. but the questions have begun to subside and i am seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. yesterday, a regular at my restaurant told me that god/jesus/jeramiah knows my calling in life and he will show it to me.
well, thank god/jesus/jeramiah for that!
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