Three weeks ago, I decided that everything was going to be positive. And it worked for nine whole days. Until it stopped working, but when it stopped, I realized some things. All flashes of inspiration.

The first came as I was driving home after the paperclip thing (see my previous post if you really care). I received an email from a friend that said quite simply…”Hey Jana, how’s it going? We miss you.” This was after a Tuesday that I had a wonderful conversation with a good friend, and a Monday text message that said, “I hope that work was better for you today.” I have never had such anger inside as I do right now. Frustration, boredom, annoyance have plagued me, but not anger like this. And I realized as I was driving home that I am insanely hard on people. This whole situation has made me see how wonderful the people in my life are. I mean, I am genuinely surrounded by greatness and love and light. I suppose the contrast makes it ultra-visible, but I’ve always known that somewhere deep inside me. I’m just especially grateful at this moment.

The second came the very next morning. I do a mental checklist every morning. I don’t write stuff down anymore because it overwhelms me, and it feels too binding. After working 10 hours, I did a 2-hour session in the gym, cooked dinner, wrote (yes, I am still writing!), sat in an hour and a half class, did my laundry, and made a small dent in the list of people I need to call back or email. I am somewhat still battling this infection, popping pills like there’s no tomorrow, and I realized as I crawled into bed after an awesome 18.5 hour day that I push myself very, very hard. Someone asked me if the next day would be more normal, and I stopped for a moment and said, no, that’s Tuesday. It’s probably not very funny in the grand scheme of things, but it makes me laugh. I stopped–about 5 months ago–saying that I’m tired every single day. There’s just no point to it, and I feel like it highlights both my stupidity and my weakness. And if you know me, there’s nothing I abhor more than weakness.

And the third epiphany came on Thursday in a badly bungled interview. I had done an exercise a couple of months ago where I wrote down everything that annoyed me. The purpose was to show you things you really care about. I realized during this interview that my level of pisstivity (Ochocinco’s term that I have stolen) was unbelievably high. Not because I had been insulted, even though I had, but because at the very core of the insult was a complete mockery of what I have devoted my adult life to. And I realized at that moment that I am officially going to wholeheartedly acknowledge that not only do I absolutely love working in inner-city environments, but that there is something inside me that is intended for that purpose. And yes, it’s probably going to suck financially and physically and mentally for as long as I do it, but so be it. When I said in a bitter rant to this woman, you couldn’t do what I do for 15 minutes, I meant it. I always mean that when someone tells me I can do better. Better than what? Better than something that has purpose?


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