Following a trail of tears.

I'm nearly seven months into this adventure. Can you believe it? Sometimes I can't. Sometimes it feels like I've been here a lot longer. Sometimes it feels like I came along last week in my reliable little Clutch (that's the name of my car, for those who don't know) and stared this crazy journey. There have been lots of bumps on the road. There are moments where I cried with absolute relief. Always, though, when asked if I thought I made the right move, I've been able to nod without a moment of hesitation and answer, "Never doubted it yet."

Last night was the first time I really began to doubt what I've done.

I know that doesn't make me terrible or an absolute failure or anything, but that doesn't make the reality any less difficult to bear. And, after going to sleep and letting my mind rest a bit on the subject of my doubts, I was able to think through it more rationally this morning.

Here's the basic gist: I'm in debt to my landlords. Thankfully, after talking to them about it, they both understand that times are hard and are willing to work with me to make ends meet. Until last night, however, I didn't realize how bad of debt I was in. November's rent is coming up, and I still owe them a last little bit for October.

Something like that is an extremely hard pill to swallow. I honestly thought that, with new insurance and after talking to them and two weeks of sales at the warehouse, I wasn't going to be in a bind after this. I thought it was going to work out well. To think of that much money, with no roommate (yet) to help with rent and a grand total of three days of work next week...

Sigh.

I began to think that maybe I'm seriously in over my head. I've barely been here for a year. I seriously considered moving back to Missouri just so I could be back in a position where I wasn't like this anymore. I mean, I've hit a really strong bout of homesickness this week. I miss the familiarity, people who care about the same things I care about, the severe weather (oh man do I miss this) the friends that I've known for years and years and years... I was entertaining the thought of moving to St. Joseph so that I could be close to Kansas City, a place I know and love, and still have my dreams within my reach because I wouldn't be in Kirksville. I wouldn't feel trapped. I always told Mom that I couldn't move back to Missouri because only being seven months into this thing and going back because it was hard "feels like quitting. And why would I quit if tough moments are a part of being an adult? That's dumb." I didn't even care about that anymore. I just want to be out of this situation!!

Then, this morning, after getting up early to watch ESPN's College Gameday in Columbia (M-I-Z! Z-O-U!) and going back to sleep, the rational thoughts flooded into my head: what on earth makes me think that moving back to Missouri is going to solve everything? I'm still going to be in debt. I'm still going to have to pay off Jay and Suze for the time here. In reality, with the money I'd have to save for gas on the trip back home, and the extra money to ship everything out, it would be more likely that I'd have paid off my debt by that point. Running back to Missouri doesn't make any sense.

Another thought struck me that I want to make sense of before I post it here, but this is the gist of where I am. Rationality has smacked me in the brain, but that doesn't really change the situation. Currently, I've fallen back to my trump card and have applied at a local grocery store, as well as a Borders and a place called Just Sports who are looking for seasonal help right now. I'm trying to do what I can to find full-time work, as well as a roommate.

What I really need right now are big doses of encouragement. Help me out here, guys. What advice can you offer? What am I supposed to do?

A glimpse of my commute

I was driving home from work a week ago and admired the pretty fall colors on the trees. Thought I'd share. :)

I often wonder what God has on His iPod.

Does anyone else ever think about this? Every time I think about creation, I wonder what music God was listening to at the time. I mean, God is a wonderfully creative artist, obviously, and most artists like to listen to something when they create their work, which lead me to my thought this week:

What did God have on His iPod when he was creating the oceans?

I imagine it was something with a lot of strings, personally. Seeing as the Almighty has access to the largest band in creation, I'm sure that, while standing barefoot in paint-stained clothes and a beanie, they somehow just... worked well together. Art does that, you know? And I'm pretty sure that intricacy, that complexity, has to do with the time of Creation.

How does art and music go together, yet fall in the same category? 'Cause God did it first.

I'm also convinced that there's a little bit of Heavenly wonder in music. So when I hear something that really captivates me, it doesn't surprise me that I often wonder if God was ever listening to something similar during some point in history. For example, last week I found an orchestrated piece from a favorite game of mine, Donkey Kong Country. I didn't remember it was from this game, but when I heard it, I was absolutely captivated by the arrangement. When I reached the crescendo, a thought struck me: I wonder if this was what God was listening to when he created the oceans? When I hunted down the song, I was surprised to discover its name was "Aquatic Ambiance." I took that as a sign; I'm convinced God was listening to this at some point while He stood, barefoot, covered in the paint of creation, staring at the canvas of the Earth, watching as life was breathed into what He just molded together. Rock, sand, silt, reefs, fish, waves, and so, so much more of it covered by darkness, a beauty that human eyes may never see. Jump in at :59-4:01, close your eyes, and see if you can't feel yourself floating through the wonder of His creation.

Humble Pie

Humble: 1. proud or modest successful, 2. a feeling of subservience, 3. low in importance, quality, 4. courteously, 5. low in height, in size, 6. to lower in condition, or dignity, 7. to destroy the independence, or will of, 8. to make meek.

You see that over there? That's what poor people like me do when we want something toasted. We take the item, stab it with a knife, hold it over the stove, and cook it until we're satisfied with it. Let's see your toaster do that, eh?

Why don't I just buy a toaster, you ask? Because I can't afford one. I'm poor as dirt, people. I just payed rent. I'm pretty sure I'll just make paying for my insurance. (Or, if I have my way, I won't be paying for it at all. Can we say quote?) Besides, having to discover alternate ways to do the little things is what an adventure is all about, right?

One of the things I've been the most surprised to learn about the most during my adventure is how being humble is so absolutely crucial and so massively hard to do. It's amazing to be able to sit back and commit to it, knowing that you're going to be able to follow through with everything... while you're living under your parent's roof and not learning what part of your paycheck goes where. Sure. Being humble is a breeze in that case. But when you're living on your own, you discover that a lot of things you had at home aren't exactly the things you're going to use to make your new home. For example, rent could be far more affordable if I wasn't paying so much on insurance or a phone. It took a lot of personal nagging, but after three or four months of not doing anything for myself and collecting paycheck to paycheck (or buying one big thing and seeing how NOT good of an idea that was at the end of the month) it's plain to see that I need to prioritize.

It is, in a word, humbling. I can't make it on my own. I need as much help as I can get.

It also, in another word, sucks.

It's a nice, healthy stab to pride to be humble, I'm sure. What I didn't foresee was the hardships that are a result of being... well, humble. When I first moved in to my place, Dad and I made a budget, and since then, even eliminating around three of the categories we came up with, I still can't make it on the hours I have to work with. Finding a full-time job, especially in this economy, is a near-impossibility.

Humble: a feeling of subservience.

I had something far more eloquent to say about humility, but I completely lost it when another excellent thought entered my head for the day. I just wanted to say a little diddly on that, though. Expect more thoughts later-ish.