give you rest
if you will
not take it?
Showing posts with label stubbornness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label stubbornness. Show all posts
12 July 2015
26 March 2014
the Lord gives, the Lord takes away
God knows exactly
how much you can
handle. It's just that
this grand sweep of
human history and
His plan for it are
not all about you, so
sometimes you get
more than you can
take, but He takes
that all into account
in the end.
how much you can
handle. It's just that
this grand sweep of
human history and
His plan for it are
not all about you, so
sometimes you get
more than you can
take, but He takes
that all into account
in the end.
26 September 2011
These Three (4)
.
riding my bike as
evening falls if
I had stopped before
when I wanted to
(too early)
I would not have seen
doe and two fauns
these three
and so . . .
.
riding my bike as
evening falls if
I had stopped before
when I wanted to
(too early)
I would not have seen
doe and two fauns
these three
and so . . .
.
21 May 2011
wisdom the crabapple tree passes on to me
.
some days
all you can do is
resist gravity
.
(I promise once I get this resettling thing settled, I'll stop copping out by only posting short pieces of poetry. Maybe I'll go back to paragraphs. Or at least longer poems. :) Until then . . .
some days
all you can do is
resist gravity
.
(I promise once I get this resettling thing settled, I'll stop copping out by only posting short pieces of poetry. Maybe I'll go back to paragraphs. Or at least longer poems. :) Until then . . .
26 June 2010
So, this new job - when do I get to feel like it's real?
After I get the email with the start date details that shows the background check is finished?
After my first day?
After my first paycheck?
I've got to figure out how to stop waiting for the other shoe to drop. If it's going to fall, it will fall. I don't need to stress out waiting for it. Sheesh.
(Have you ever felt like this?)
After my first day?
After my first paycheck?
I've got to figure out how to stop waiting for the other shoe to drop. If it's going to fall, it will fall. I don't need to stress out waiting for it. Sheesh.
(Have you ever felt like this?)
22 May 2010
It hailed today
I have now spent over 30 hours researching for this job interview. I have read several books. I have talked to wise people without getting totally neurotic and annoying. I have researched strategies for answering questions and looked at thousands of questions. I have made plans. I will write stories to tell in answer to questions. I have lots of people praying for me. If this job was awarded to the person who did the most homework, I would get it. If it was awarded based on financial need, I would get it. If it was given to the person who wanted it most, I would get it.
I am unlikely to get this job.
My most helpful inside resource told me he hopes that the interviewers see me as the winsome underdog. He did not have to finish by adding that there's no other way I'll get it (the four times he started a sentence with, "If you don't get this job, I have some ideas," kind of sufficiently filled in the blank.
I should be discouraged. I should be giving up on the other ten hours of prep I'm planning on doing before the big interviews. I should feel done, defeated, beaten.
But I'm not stopping.
Is this peace that passes understanding? It doesn't feel like secret foreknowledge or anything. It's not really confidence, either. It's partly my innate stubbornness and love of a challenge. Don't tell me I can't, because I'll want to even more was never really a mindset I struggled with as a child. (Except where tree climbing was concerned.)
Maybe this last push will be the thing that sends me over the top. Maybe these last hours of effort and attention and work will be necessary for success. I'm desperate; it's true. I'm in a bad situation (nothing new). I'd hate to give up before giving everything I possibly can.
The rest is up to God.
I am unlikely to get this job.
My most helpful inside resource told me he hopes that the interviewers see me as the winsome underdog. He did not have to finish by adding that there's no other way I'll get it (the four times he started a sentence with, "If you don't get this job, I have some ideas," kind of sufficiently filled in the blank.
I should be discouraged. I should be giving up on the other ten hours of prep I'm planning on doing before the big interviews. I should feel done, defeated, beaten.
But I'm not stopping.
Is this peace that passes understanding? It doesn't feel like secret foreknowledge or anything. It's not really confidence, either. It's partly my innate stubbornness and love of a challenge. Don't tell me I can't, because I'll want to even more was never really a mindset I struggled with as a child. (Except where tree climbing was concerned.)
Maybe this last push will be the thing that sends me over the top. Maybe these last hours of effort and attention and work will be necessary for success. I'm desperate; it's true. I'm in a bad situation (nothing new). I'd hate to give up before giving everything I possibly can.
The rest is up to God.
30 October 2009
Yet another one sails away
Well, that tears it. My new friend at work had enough and left. What a huge, stupid waste. She was worth at least two of my incompetent sales manager. There is very little justice in a world where I'm stuck with the stupid sales manager and have to lose a great co-worker because our management is . . . Yeah, you've heard it before. Sorry.
But I can't resist this great example of my sales manager's greatness. Because of this sudden situation, I was asked to come in and work on my day off, and, because I desperately need the hours/money, I came in early in the morning after a late night leading a small group for church. Then, that morning, I picked up another sick co-worker's shift for that night, but I could only work from 6-10 (so I could get some rest before coming in early the next morning for my next shift). As I was leaving at 10:15, my sales manager got extremely snippy with me for having to leave before 10:30 . Yes, she got mad at me after I came in and saved her bacon twice in the same day on my day off outside of my regular availability. She is a real winner.
I'm looking for a new hopefully less crappy retail job along with my regular job hunting.
Morale is just so shot right now at our store, and sales, which were up, are dropping. It's sad because it doesn't have to be and shouldn't be this way. I wish there were something I could do to make it better, but I really have tried everything I can.
I was thinking about good companies and how they value their employees. Maybe I'm still kind of an idealist, but I thought companies wanted to hire good employees and use their strengths as individuals and team members to help the company prosper. My RetailEstablishment never read these books, I guess. They would rather try to force everyone into the same (bent) mold and break them.
We're all breaking.
It's rough to watch. I have so much to give, and they don't want it. It's . . . frustrating not to be able to use any of your skills, talents, personality, etc. in a way that helps people. It's worse when you can't just quit, when you're too damaged already to be sure you'll ever be able to find another job. Being so invested in one place used to make me sort of stubbornly determined to do my best to help things change for the better, but when you have resistance and an endless landslide of dumb policies coming from your district manager to your store and thus know that the "open-door" policy is a quick way to get fired, it just grinds you down.
At least I'm proud I've hung on for over 6 years. :) Find your sunshine where you can, I guess.
Do you have any suggestions for retail jobs that would be good for a cripple?
But I can't resist this great example of my sales manager's greatness. Because of this sudden situation, I was asked to come in and work on my day off, and, because I desperately need the hours/money, I came in early in the morning after a late night leading a small group for church. Then, that morning, I picked up another sick co-worker's shift for that night, but I could only work from 6-10 (so I could get some rest before coming in early the next morning for my next shift). As I was leaving at 10:15, my sales manager got extremely snippy with me for having to leave before 10:30 . Yes, she got mad at me after I came in and saved her bacon twice in the same day on my day off outside of my regular availability. She is a real winner.
I'm looking for a new hopefully less crappy retail job along with my regular job hunting.
Morale is just so shot right now at our store, and sales, which were up, are dropping. It's sad because it doesn't have to be and shouldn't be this way. I wish there were something I could do to make it better, but I really have tried everything I can.
I was thinking about good companies and how they value their employees. Maybe I'm still kind of an idealist, but I thought companies wanted to hire good employees and use their strengths as individuals and team members to help the company prosper. My RetailEstablishment never read these books, I guess. They would rather try to force everyone into the same (bent) mold and break them.
We're all breaking.
It's rough to watch. I have so much to give, and they don't want it. It's . . . frustrating not to be able to use any of your skills, talents, personality, etc. in a way that helps people. It's worse when you can't just quit, when you're too damaged already to be sure you'll ever be able to find another job. Being so invested in one place used to make me sort of stubbornly determined to do my best to help things change for the better, but when you have resistance and an endless landslide of dumb policies coming from your district manager to your store and thus know that the "open-door" policy is a quick way to get fired, it just grinds you down.
At least I'm proud I've hung on for over 6 years. :) Find your sunshine where you can, I guess.
Do you have any suggestions for retail jobs that would be good for a cripple?
12 October 2009
On to the next strategy . . .
I had fallen into a sort of cycle of pain, more of a spiral, like the one water makes as it's draining. I'm trying to break it, so I'm doing things a little differently this time.
I'm near the bottom of the cycle, so that means almost constant pain, but it usually results in my starting to favor my left arm even more, which results in more pain to my right arm and back, etc. This time, I'm not babying the left arm. I'm forcing it to remain on the steering wheel or the handle of the grocery cart when I would usually let it hang.
The result is not the miraculous one I was dreaming about. I'm still in pain, and I'm still unconsciously favoring it (I can tell because the tendons in my right arm are outlined in fire, and I keep thinking someone's stabbing me in the back [wouldn't be a total shock at my RetailEstablishment]).
Maybe I'll treat it "normally" for another couple of days, but I'm not sure if I can. Strike that idea from the list.
Anyone have any suggestions for strategies of how to outsmart my neurological problems?
I'm near the bottom of the cycle, so that means almost constant pain, but it usually results in my starting to favor my left arm even more, which results in more pain to my right arm and back, etc. This time, I'm not babying the left arm. I'm forcing it to remain on the steering wheel or the handle of the grocery cart when I would usually let it hang.
The result is not the miraculous one I was dreaming about. I'm still in pain, and I'm still unconsciously favoring it (I can tell because the tendons in my right arm are outlined in fire, and I keep thinking someone's stabbing me in the back [wouldn't be a total shock at my RetailEstablishment]).
Maybe I'll treat it "normally" for another couple of days, but I'm not sure if I can. Strike that idea from the list.
Anyone have any suggestions for strategies of how to outsmart my neurological problems?
07 July 2009
The Grudge: Part XVIII
I don't like to hold grudges, but apparently my body does. My physical therapist tells me there's no reason why I should still be having this much trouble with my plantar fasciitis.
"You're young!" he says as he tries the last thing he can think of before sending me to consult with a surgeon.
"It's great to be young!" I tell him as he "aggressively" treats my stubbornly stiff tendons. It's a good thing that I'm not involved in espionage because I wouldn't handle torture well.
"I'd hesitate a lot to send you to a surgeon," he tells me, "because you obviously don't heal very well."
This is true.
I imagine my powers of anti-healing have a lot to do with over six years of increasing sleeplessness caused by my friendly battle with chronic pain. My body is becoming more stiff and brittle, and it simply can't repair itself, causing me to consistently add to my growing collection of injuries. I would rather be collecting those last five state quarters I don't have.
After not seeing the physical therapist for several months due to financial issues, I returned in pretty much the same condition he'd last seen me in, which baffled him. "I mean, you're using the shoe inserts and stretching it all night with the brace and even doing the strengthening exercises. There's no reason why it should still be like this."
"Remember, with me, nothing can be easy!" I say, and he laughs.
When he told me he wanted to try really aggressive treatment for four weeks, he said apologetically, "You're not going to like coming here." We've been discussing other things he's said that we could use for our marketing materials for this treatment, such as, "This will hurt a lot" and "You're pretty much just coming here for pain."
I've never really been one for holding grudges. My mom was a master at it and my sister is, as well. I decided to take after my father. He doesn't really hold grudges because it's too easy to get distracted. Maybe I'm just lazy, but I can't maintain the energy it takes to remember being mad at someone for more than a few minutes at a time. My forgetfulness used to drive my sister crazy. She couldn't understand how I could forget things so easily. I couldn't understand how she could hold onto them for so long.
With only one mostly-working arm (and one fully-unreliable arm), I thought I definitely didn't have what it took to hold onto things, but apparently my body remembers. I am one stubborn, contradictory, ornery being.
Now, off to the next overnight shift. When that's done, I'm heading to the PT place at 6:50am, so he can tape my foot up again. He's coming in early. Poor guy deserves combat pay; he's going to hurt his fingers trying to defeat my grudge one of these days.
"You're young!" he says as he tries the last thing he can think of before sending me to consult with a surgeon.
"It's great to be young!" I tell him as he "aggressively" treats my stubbornly stiff tendons. It's a good thing that I'm not involved in espionage because I wouldn't handle torture well.
"I'd hesitate a lot to send you to a surgeon," he tells me, "because you obviously don't heal very well."
This is true.
I imagine my powers of anti-healing have a lot to do with over six years of increasing sleeplessness caused by my friendly battle with chronic pain. My body is becoming more stiff and brittle, and it simply can't repair itself, causing me to consistently add to my growing collection of injuries. I would rather be collecting those last five state quarters I don't have.
After not seeing the physical therapist for several months due to financial issues, I returned in pretty much the same condition he'd last seen me in, which baffled him. "I mean, you're using the shoe inserts and stretching it all night with the brace and even doing the strengthening exercises. There's no reason why it should still be like this."
"Remember, with me, nothing can be easy!" I say, and he laughs.
When he told me he wanted to try really aggressive treatment for four weeks, he said apologetically, "You're not going to like coming here." We've been discussing other things he's said that we could use for our marketing materials for this treatment, such as, "This will hurt a lot" and "You're pretty much just coming here for pain."
I've never really been one for holding grudges. My mom was a master at it and my sister is, as well. I decided to take after my father. He doesn't really hold grudges because it's too easy to get distracted. Maybe I'm just lazy, but I can't maintain the energy it takes to remember being mad at someone for more than a few minutes at a time. My forgetfulness used to drive my sister crazy. She couldn't understand how I could forget things so easily. I couldn't understand how she could hold onto them for so long.
With only one mostly-working arm (and one fully-unreliable arm), I thought I definitely didn't have what it took to hold onto things, but apparently my body remembers. I am one stubborn, contradictory, ornery being.
Now, off to the next overnight shift. When that's done, I'm heading to the PT place at 6:50am, so he can tape my foot up again. He's coming in early. Poor guy deserves combat pay; he's going to hurt his fingers trying to defeat my grudge one of these days.
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