This Thing Called Blogging

I wish I had discovered this thing called blogging a year ago. Whether or not anyone actually reads what's on my mind, writing my thoughts and reading the mind wanderings of other people is turning out to be a type of therapy for me.

Take this morning, for instance. One lady's husband is going through some heart testing today, another mom made me feel better about the fact that I can't keep things straight (she actually forgot a kid at school... I forgot one of my own years ago), and yet another woman mentions her son in Afghanistan often. Things like that remind me that there really are other people out there.

I get stuck in my own world. Poor me. Nobody cares. God who?

Sound familiar? Well, I do struggle. And I know that I am not poor. And that my mom cares. And that Jesus is my Savior. Like I've said before, though, I spend too much time alone.

This time alone was not by choice. I'm on my second year of not teaching school. I've lost count of how many jobs I applied for. Believe me, I've got every job search option saved on my tool bar. I can practically recite my resume. I went through all last year thinking I was a loser that couldn't get a job. Or hold a job. Or contribute anything to society.

This year I'm just hanging on. And the thread is getting pretty thin, let me tell you.

The only peace I have is when I tell myself that this is only for a season. Last year was such a mess with the kids entering public school for the first time. This year was easier, but those big schools scare me. That's just the way it is. You can take the girl out of the small town, but you can't take the small town out of the girl.

And as far as me being home? Well, I have to admit that it has made things easier as far as sick kids, early pick-ups, and dentist appointments go. I'm on my way to cramming four years of college into two and a half (December 2011!). The house stays clean. The cat has grown to love me. And blogging has become a way to vent and connect myself to the outside world.

But, oh, how I miss the outside world! I miss welcoming grumpy students in the morning, watching them roll their eyes when I would start singing about prepositions and pronouns (and then ask me later privately to please teach them that song), and then sending them on their way in the afternoon with a sigh of relief. I miss hearing lockers slam in the hallway. I miss my magnetic white board. I miss my red pen.

What was. What is. And what will be.

Until then, you're stuck with me. In between perfecting history essays about total war and separating the many loads of laundry, I read blogs and I write them. And it all has a way of making me feel better.