I am going to make a confession.

I am hating the job that I have.

I could on from the time I got this job in April to now but to save you the pages I would be writing, trust me when I say you would hate it too.

While I have several friends who just listen and laugh at the crud that I find is completely unnecessary for me to have to deal with, I have other friends who have told me, point blank, to quit.

And while quitting sounds spectacular, I wasn't born a quitter. My parents didn't raise me to get a job that once the stress levels meet as such that I'm considering jumping off a Dallas skyscraper, to just quit.

I understand now the sense of how it feels to be kicked when you're down, and once you think you've gained bearings finally someone throws a wrench in it.
I have learned that working with friends will have you seeing some color of theirs that you didn't think they could have. And having to look past it.
I have found that you'll never, ever, ever reach everyone's level of perfection...and that there'll always be that ONE person that expects you to rope them the moon while patting your head and rubbing your stomach at the same time.

And now we're at today. Today was just one of those days. One of those days where I didn't wanna get up and attend my early morning meetings and then my regular meetings. As the day progressed, more trivial things happened that alone, are nothing, but when you pack them together, on top of everything else that is going on right now in my job, with the new year and the big changes that'll make, I just wished that someone else could deal with all this and then I could resume in a few weeks.

Maybe I'm an avoider. That must be it. That I wanna run away from crud that is ruining the flow that I'm trying to keep.

And yet, in my journal, I found myself writing this:

And yet, throughout all this, I feel like I am to stick it out and not quit. And I'm looking up at the skies like, "Are you for real? What am I to learn from all this?" And then I hear God tell me I'll know soon enough, but for now I feel like a puppet on strings! And I'm mad because I also hear God saying that I don't have it that bad and to just trudge through it because when I complain to him I feel like he's understanding but is telling me to cowboy up and that it'll be fine soon enough.


Like, I'm seriously hearing him tell me the same thing I tell my kids when they come to me with silly issues like not wanting to make their bed because they can't do it right. I'll just say, "But you can do it, so do it! The more you do it the better you'll become so get started" and then I'll shoo them into their room before they could complain any more.

God is aware of me, He hasn't left my side. So why am I acting like He has? And why am I acting like he's given me a job that I can't handle?

I have realized that through the hard times comes the greatest lessons. Just right now, in the thick of it, I can't see them. But as the great saying goes: Life is understood backwards, but must be lived forwards.

But I will see soon enough these lessons I am to learn. In the mean time, I will "cowboy up".
Call it being stubborn, or stupid, but I don't like going and getting my hair cut professionally.

There's some language barrier, I'm certain of it, when I go to get my hair cut and it doesn't matter if I'm paying $13 at Supercuts, or $40 to a woman named Teri who works at the mall and has a reputation of knowing and executing the exact cut you ask for. I will always hear, "Oh, you can't have long hair with short layers" or "Whaaaat? I don't know what you mean. So you want your hair short, right? No, long?"

Side note: Am I the only one who cries at the thought of spending $40 on your hair?

The past two times I've had someone else cut my hair, I ended up wearing it for a day to see if I'll get used to it, only to end up cutting it myself until it finally looks how I want. So why in heavens name am I paying someone?

I want long hair, with short layers. I need the short layers as Momma is getting old and showing her age and dang it, hair that is lying flat against my head because it's too heavy to lift with product (read: I refuse to tease my hair) will add all the wrong drama to my face. But I want length too. I can't do short hair. Never have been able to. Every time I cut my hair short I looked and felt ugly, to which I'd grow it out, see a friend with an incredibly adorable bob, cut my hair again, hate it, grow it out again, watch The Real World on MTV, copy a main character's haircut (truth), hate my life, wear a hat for six months and vow to never, ever again have my hair that short, even at the ripe age of 80 with great, great grandkids yanking on it.

So I've been cutting my hair. And I've been very careful in how I cut it.

Until the other day.
That darn other day.
Time machine, anyone?




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Eating healthy!

You can do it!




I have challenged myself for the month of December to make 25 videos, talking about 25 different New Year's Resolution ideas. Here I'll give tips and tricks on how to make and fulfill these resolutions. Follow me, subscribe, like, and comment!

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