All four of you who read my blog on occasion have most likely picked up on the fact that, well, I like to be funny. Or rather, I like to think that I’m funny, therefore write about normal, silly, everyday things in a somewhat humorous manner. Whether that is always accomplished, I cannot say, but the world is full of long lines and pse&g bills, why add to the mess with my own short comings?
But-all of you post public school attenders know a lead-in when you hear one-there’s been something on my mind that has settled deep in the recesses of my heart that I’m not sure what to with. And, when I’m not sure what to do with anything it generally ends up on paper. Or in song lyrics. Or computer screens. Or consumed along with large quantities of dark chocolate brownies. Judging by the waist band on my last pair of sweat pants, I’d like to avoid the latter, if you don’t mind.
Being in your twenties, I believe, in a short, vulgar, unintelligent word, sucks. We have graduated from college. We have moved out on our own. Some of us, myself included, have in amidst all the madness, found the love of their life and have gotten married. Whatever your situation is when you’ve landed smack dab in the middle of those golden years I can bet that the words forming in your mouth are the same in the mouths of hundreds. Thousands even. Especially mine.
We can’t find a job, and when we’ve found one it has nothing to do with our education, and definitely miles away from our passions. We’re too poor to purchase houses and make too much to qualify for any assistance. We can’t go back to school to become more marketable until we’ve paid off all the loans we took out to go to school the first time. We can’t have kids because we can’t support them financially or otherwise-nor are we even sure we want them, that’s just the next step, isn’t it? We are trying at all costs to prove that we are valuable members of society as we’re moving back in with our moms in droves due to high rent, higher living costs, and due to all the stress, higher medical bills from all the Xoloft we’re consuming. I’m trying my best to rein in my language considering I have to be back teaching in the classroom in a few weeks, but, what the hell???
I haven’t figured it all out. Not even a little bit. But, I know that we have a God who is omnipotent. Always forgiving. Always loving. And that we, often, miss the message entirely. In the next few posts I’m going to be exploring why this perpetual state of hopelessness exists in my life when I know that I serve a God who offers all hope. What I think is holding me back from accepting all that God has been longing to give me. Why I settle not often, but all the time, for things I’m not passionate about, or even desire. Why I equate the word risk with the word irresponsible. Why I could tell you exactly what I believe God wants from me, and why I’ve refused to give it to him. And why all of those things are exactly what is weighing down my generation in an anchor made up of anti-depressants, late night bar runs and The Secret.
This certainly wasn’t the plan or the layout for this little writing space, but, if my musings do nothing other than lay common ground, I’m fine with that. And don’t worry, in the next few weeks I’ll throw in a post here and there about Supporting your local Starbucks, My contempt for the color Pink and my new obsession with the Twilight series just to keep an even keel:)