I Almost Collapsed in the Middle of the Road (or: When it rains, it pours, and I can't swim)

Note: the majority of this post was written on Thursday. You may notice I kind of switch tenses near the end where I finished up on Friday because it was very late by the time I got around to writing this.

Yes, I'm kind of attached to the saying "When it rains, it pours". It's very applicable lately. I've already used it once today, on a facebook status, but I'm here to say it again.

As Mom aptly put it: "Well, I'm drowning."

The day started out normal. (Yes, I've had other adventures over the past week, but I don't want to bother with a recap, so we'll go with something more recent.) I'd gone to bed late because I got home late last night after a singles' activity at the youth pastor's house. (My first one, and I never thought I'd go to one. Ever.) So I pushed my alarm up to 7:30. Sasha was already mad at me for not getting to bed until 11:30, but she was ready to go by 7:00.

So I get up, take her out, switch out laundry, wash some dishes, water the garden, shock the pool. Kind of meandering through the morning. Fireworks tents are on, and I've been spending my afternoons there because I'm one of a select few individuals who can run register. However, today is route day, so I was mentally preparing myself for an afternoon where I wasn't sitting around bracelet braiding and trying to convince strangers that they need the $20 buy-one-get-one mortar with a couple bottle rockets thrown in and some smoke grenades for the kids. Fun stuff.

Anywho. Mom was keeping in contact while she worked out who was picking us up and when and all that fun stuff. There's been a lack of communication lately and all kinds of trouble with schedules, so it's been touch-and-go all week. For a while it looked like Heather and I wouldn't be picked up until 12:30. Suddenly, in the middle of my bowl of mac and cheese, Mom's saying someone else will be by at 11:30.

So I rush around shoveling food in my mouth and grabbing library books in case a library run turns out to be possible and taking allergy medicine and feeding the dogs, and then we're off! It turned out to be the youth pastor's wife picking us up, and her four-year-old was along for the ride. We had to stop by the paper to get Mom's papers, and said four-year-old started panicking, thinking we weren't in fact going back to his house but were going to deliver papers. (His three older brothers have routes and he often has to come along.)

Once we had papers, we headed to the tent. Mom was there alone with a few customers. I took a seat and dug through the cooler for something to munch, and made the wise decision of adding a few shots of energy drink mix to my water. (Sounds terrible and alcoholic, I know, but it's actually very healthy and tasty. But it can still produce side effects in some people which are similar to what would happen if they were drunk.)

We were waiting for the woman who was supposed to get us after 12 to arrive so she could sit with Heather, the youth pastor's wife and son could leave, and we could take her car on routes instead of our broken down Beast (AKA Expedition). While we waited, the four-year-old moped about making growling noises and saying his stomach needed food and begging for water and yodeling behind a pile of boxes, and I filled Mom in on the events of the previous night's activity.

I know. Pretty much none of this is relevant, but I need to ramble a bit, Please bear with me.

A couple days ago, it was breezy and cool in the day and actually cold at night. Not today. Almost 100 degrees and very humid, and while the breeze was a few degrees cooler, it didn't really help. I was dreading routes, but wondered if it would be better than sitting still in that big, stuffy tent.

Finally the other lady arrived and Mom and I set out. We had to do things quite out of order because of where we were located in relation to the routes, but it's nice to change things up, especially when we needed to keep our minds off the temperature. We ran the air for a little while, but turned it off so it wouldn't mess with the...radiator? Whatever part of the car has a gauge on the dashboard where the needle should never go into the red area.  :)  Yeah, so it was still hot, but we had a breeze which helped relieve the heat ever so slightly. And Mom was already drenched in sweat, so she didn't notice as much.

We were maybe 15 minutes into routes when Mom saw the steady trail we were leaving on the road, and the puddles wherever we sat still. And then the car started having trouble shifting. In 5 more minutes, we were in trouble, and Mom was headed back to the tent. We got about 3 blocks, stopped and a red light, and didn't move again.

And of course, this city has all those poorly-planned intersections. Just what we needed.

We'd already called the owner of the car to let her know what was happening, and then Mom called the youth pastor's wife. She said we just needed to get it into a parking lot. We were very close to a car wash and Pizza Hut.

Look! A map! A picture on my blog! Only because it is much easier to explain with a visual reference.

The red dot is where we were stopped, right by the light and a tricky intersection. The blue spot is approximately where the Pizza Hut parking lot was located, which Mom figured would be easier to get into than the car wash one. (No, I didn't make the map. I tried, and failed miserably. That was courtesy of Google maps. I just simplified it and added the dots.)

We waited through four or five cycles of traffic signals, with some people behind too blind and impatient to see our hazards on, and some pausing to make sure we were okay. Of course, my extreme caution when it comes to negative roadside situations that have any possibilities of resulting in some sort of accident. Of course, Mom didn't have to tell me to sit still and keep my seatbelt on until our help arrived.

Thankfully, it wasn't the four-year-old but the fourteen-year-old who came along with his mom. And he's not a wimp. I hopped out and got ready on one side of the back of the car, my hands on the hot surface. Of course, I was wearing flip-flops. As the other lane's light turned red, we started pushing. It took some time, but we eventually gained momentum and then I was jogging a bit behind, out of breath and starting to feel asthmatic. We started to pass the car wash and a bunch of men working on the sign saw us and started laughing. I was too busy focusing on not falling down flat on my face.

Thankfully, my youth pastor's wife was wearing a bright pink shirt and her son had a neon yellow shirt on. Me, I was in a thick, dark gray t-shirt. About halfway through, with one hand on the trunk (and that more to steady myself than to keep the car in motion), I was feeling a bit dizzy.

Then we had to get the car up the incline into the parking lot. The youth pastor's wife called out a countdown to Mom, and then we dug in. The car slid into the nearest parking lot, and I went to sit down in the passenger seat. I had that almost cold, wheezy feeling in my throat, so I guzzled my energy-enfused water.

Then we loaded everything up in the youth pastor's van and headed to their house, where we dropped them off and tried to remember where we'd left off with routes.

By the time we finished and got back to my youth pastor's house so they could take us back to the tent and take their van to do their own routes, it was almost 4:00. Papers have to be delivered by 5:00. Of course, their routes are walking routes which they've got down to about 45 minutes, so I had faith in them.

Back at the tent, I moped around drinking water and wishing I had something to do. I made a few sales when Mom ran to the bathroom, even convincing a woman that she needed the $20 buy-one-get-one mortar when all she was going to buy was little things like bottle rockets and sparklers. Score!

It was definitely better to me to be on routes than stuck sitting at the tent. Mom would probably disagree because she was still sitting still the whole time, and then we had to turn on the defroster in the van to bring the heat down in the...radiator?? (Yeah, same thing as the car.) Me, I got to get out and move pretty often.

We made a few sales, but mostly we sat around begging the very dark looking clouds coming our way to let loose with a rain storm so we could dance in it. Nothing happened. There'd only been a 17% chance of rain and thunderstorms.

By 6:00, I was so ready to just go home and take a shower and then do nothing. Wes came to get Heather and I and we had to make a trip to Walmart, for which I remained in the car and sweat buckets, but I was feeling a bit dizzy and wanted to sit down. Then we had to run back to the tent because I'd forgot something.

Finally, home! Of course, I couldn't take a shower yet because I had to be on watch for a pool party. Allenna had a few friends over to go swimming and Mom likes someone outside the pool keeping an eye on them. It wasn't too bad, and I got some cute pictures.

That's pretty much how the day went. For some reason, I still didn't get to bed until around 11:00.

It's not what I wanted to say, but it's better than silence

I've been avoiding this for too long. Believe me, at first I did try to write, but it ended up being a jumble of thoughts that I couldn't and didn't want to sort out, so I gave up. I'm still struggling to find something to say, though there is a lot I need to say.

But I think I'll be a cop out and not say much, because everyone who reads this pretty much knows how my life has gone lately.

I think this is one of those stages of change in life. Transition is definitely how it feels to me. School is done, I had my first job interview (I didn't get the job, though), and I'm trying to figure out just what I'm supposed to be doing.

Mom told me a while ago that this age was the worst. It's like everything is happening and yet nothing is. It's that pause between acts, when the stage goes dim and everyone is changing outfits.

Clearly I'm feeling far more mellow than normal. I can't usually manage that kind of metaphor.

I don't mean to make it sound like life hasn't been busy. We've kept moving from one thing to another. I've had plenty to occupy my mind. But I still feel like the actor who can't remember their lines or their position on the stage. I know I need to be moving, but I'm scared stiff.

At the graduation ceremony at church a couple weeks ago, I said I still didn't know what I wanted to be when I grow up, but for the moment I planned to continue at our church's institute and help Mom and Dad with their missions work. That's all fine and dandy, but Institute doesn't start for what?, three months? And there isn't really very much I can do to help Mom and Dad right now. That's all just in theory at the moment.

Change. A part of me dreads it. The sane part of me likes feeling settled, knowing the routine, knowing what to expect - demanding to know what is to be expected. That illogical, hyperactive, colorful part of me screams for adventure, and adventure requires change. That part of me wants to keep moving, keep trying new things, and has very high expectations. And tends to wrestle control of my brain out of the hands of the sane portion.

I'm supposed to be looking for a job. More than that; I'm supposed to already have a job. But I've come to find out that - lately, at least - I'm the sort of person who isn't very self-motivated. Not that I'm making excuses. It's just another bad habit I need to beat. But how does one who procrastinates and lacks incentive find the willpower to tackle those two faults? That's almost irony.

Now I'm really babbling. Hopefully once I get this mess out of the way I'll be able to blog more clearly.

I suppose the struggle I'm dealing with is finding purpose. I've always had that struggle, but it's become far more evident lately that I seriously need some purpose. I'm dissatisfied with the life I'm building. I need to find something worthwhile. Don't worry; I'm not going to rush off on some sort of self-discovery type of adventure. I'm just trying to get a better perspective of life.

The sane part of me keeps urging me to settle down and get serious, to find something to do and just do it. That part of me is heavily influenced by my wise parents and my well-meaning youth pastor, who may not even realize how deeply their words hit me. However, that uncontrollably wild side of me refuses to accept that I have to choose just one path to take in life; refuses to believe that I might possibly have to accept a job I couldn't like without forcing myself; refuses to accept any responsibility for the choices I'm making. That part of me wants to believe anything is still possible, I can do whatever I want, and I have all the time in the world to do it.

How? asks the sane part. By dreaming? Unfortunately, this world requires at least a little money to fulfill dreams. And, as much as I still plan to get published, that process takes a while and I kind of need something to happen right now.

Wow. This post turned into an inner battle. Lovely. But there: there's my struggle. There's the truth to what I haven't been able to find the words to say. Maybe I'm looking for some outside support, some peer pressure, I don't know. Like I said, I don't really know what I want to say. As well as feeling panicked by this rush, this urge to change, I also feel lost in the bustle. Maybe I wrote this because I needed to, for my own sanity's sake, because I seriously need a reality check. I don't know. I can't believe I'm actually going to post it, too, but I need to so it's all out of the way and I can get back to some semblance of regularity.

So here goes.