From Predictable Cups

It’s five til eight and I’ve been here for twenty. In the dark I came. The dark was surprisingly light. And now solitary piano echos through the empty cubicles surrounding. The dreaded red light was flashing… “no, what could someone want now?” I lucked out… the answer machine required no new tasks of me.

The normal routine emerged… fill the cup, insert tea bag, nuke for one minute and fifteen seconds, apply sugar, stir with two coffee stirr sticks. Only today breakfast came from a noodle cup (yes, Robin, I ate it early today).

I don’t mean to sound ridiculously pessimistic, but isn’t it funny how four years of college is exchanged for a five by five cubicle and we consider it a good trade? Oh, but if you go for at least two more years and get your masters… then, oh by golly, then you may get a five by five and a half office space… nevermind the extra accrued debt.

But if you love what you do…?

But I just think the mere lifestyles of “office dwellers” entertains me. Same cube, same routine, same… same… day in and day out. And we call this life.

No wonder we create hobbies.

=)

Between Reports

I just wanted to pop in for a moment between reports here at work. Today’s a quiet day in the office because of Friday’s Holiday Party for all the foster families. So, everyone’s either “sick” today, which appears to be the trend, or just thoroughly dedicated to their county reports due tomorrow.

And it’s in this moment that I have gotten the opportunityto hide myself away in the back, nearby my Dad’s desk, and type away to my piano music. For this introverted girl, I must say… the back’s really nice! Occasionally I’ll hear someone off in the distance speaking to someone, but not usually. Such rest and peace is back here where the phones and faxes can’t find you and the piano wanders off in melodies.
So, as I am sure you are already aware, it is Christmas time. Snow and ice has found Matt and I with one car-scraper between the two of us and a house broom to confront it’s advance. But with that blustering wind that cuts to your thermal or non-thermal wear core, comes the sweet, lingering feeling of Christmas. And at that.. a first Christmas with Matt. It’s funny to think that in even a few short years Matt and I will look back upon our “beginnings” of that “Cheddar-sized” puff of a Christmas tree. Oh and then there’s our Christmas decorations… (clears through) the one snowman and my old stocking. But nonetheless, a “first Christmas” has bloomed at the little one-bedroom apartment and with it comes the sappy new feeling of “us” and the reality of “poor”. It’s funny how happiness is not tied to materials, but togetherness. And I couldn’t be more thrilled with the dollar-store wrapped gifts beneath our tree. Oh, I am sure others will give our loved ones such more amazing and beautiful gifts, but I still can’t wait to see my Dad’s (squared) faces when the ideas that Matt and I etched into a list become “theirs”.

And it’s in the wonderful hum-drum of winter and Christmas that I could look at all that I don’t have and get lost in the “I wants”, which, sadly to say, happened earlier this season. But, God is openning my eyes and my heart to the beauty in the “we don’t have”s. And the memories that Matt and I can look back on and laugh about.

Afterall, a beginnning… is not the final product.

– Merry Christmas, dear friends and family.-

Employment Bonus

How many of you can have a half hour face to face conversation with your Dad about what God is doing during your lunch break?

(raises hand)

Yep! I like my job today!

That was neat!

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