cool kids.

Ah... the dreaded caste system of high school. Oh wait, but it's not just high school. it's your entire freaking life.

The realization that you are NOT a cool kid & that you never will be.

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I was part of the "cool kid" group once. Well, not as much as part of it, rather I was a target. 

I'll never forget finding out in either 1st or 2nd grade, that there was a "Lauren Hating Club." I remember sitting in the Kindergarten room talking with the other girls in my class, along with the school counselor, about being kind to everyone. I'm pretty sure that all anyone heard was "Blah blah blah blah blah." 

 (photo not mine)

I am not writing this to gain sympathy. This is one of those moments where I have had to go to counseling for and attempt to figure out not only that it did affect me, but that I can move on from it.

 That all being said, that was my first run-in with the cool kids.

Fast forward to me dreaming, and then acting on!, calling out some of those kids, ahem, teens. It was awesome. To be able to stand up for the little guys and tell the cool kids that they were bullies! Yeah, that lasted about 30 seconds. Then good ol' reality slapped me in the face.

Yet, I still wanted to be liked & accepted by the people that everyone loved & wanted to be & be friends with. That, and my crush was a cool kid so that would've really helped me get closer to him. 

Fast forward & everything looks the same until. . . well, it still is clinging within me, & it's difficult to shake.

I worked at a camp & all I wanted to be was accepted by the cool kids. The ones who all hung out & were these great Christians who did the right Christian thing. I wanted to be one of them! Why? Because it would've probably made me feel better about myself and it would just be nice to fit in for once.

I find myself at those moments still to this day. wanting to be acknowledged by the cool kids. Maybe the look like a supervisor or upper management. Maybe it looks like being able to chat with my sisters all together without being the only one who doesn't have a child. Whatever it may be, that longing for acceptance is still there. 

Now, I know that some of you are going to say "Wait! You are accepted & loved by God!" Yes, I get & know that, but come on. I am a human-being who feels. Please do not share that piece of goodness with me. I get it. I know.

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I do want to clarify a couple of things. I had the best friends throughout my entire school career. We were the nerdiest of the nerds participating in speech, science olympiad, hell, show choir was my freaking sport (for the record: simply wearing a super hero t-shirt does not make you a nerd. Sitting with your husband on date night writing excel formulas while watching Dr Who & then playing Magic the Gathering, now THAT is considered nerdy)! They were beside me through everything and I am a better person for being friends with and knowing them.

Also, the friends I have today were never really part of the cool kid group either, & I love them all for it. There's something about never being fully accepted by those who were seemingly better than you. It makes you tougher & stronger, and definitely much more accepting to those around you.

Finally, I want to shout it out to the cool kids out there. You really weren't the worst. You had your insecurities & let them out in maybe just a different way than we all did. Try being nicer to the small guys around you. It'll not only change their life, but I'm hoping your life as well.

Here's to all of the losers out there who are sitting at home doing nothing on a Friday night. We've all been there whether we want to admit it or not.

Cheers!

 

Panic! At the workplace

Ah... my day today. Not quite the best & not quite the worst.

You might be able to tell by the title that today was a bit of an anxious day, and it was.

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I was at work this afternoon when I felt my chest tightening & my throat closing in. . . the calm before the storm. The moment where I have to decide if I want to end the day breathing in a paper bag, or if I have the strength to own my faults & get help.

I got help.

I told a coworker, who had just emailed me one more thing to put on my plate (a small piece to put on my plate, but a piece nonetheless), and I just told him that I was in the the beginning stages of freaking out and that I needed to get out.

I went for a walk and called Jason. No answer. I called him again. . . no answer. I called my sister. . . no freaking answer.

Jason texted & it was needed. He gave me skills & tools that could help me get through this. A sense of calm  & peace came with his kind words. It was a breath of fresh air to help me get over the mountain.

I am thankful to say that the panic did not turn into a full blown attack, but it was close. Jason has been teaching me great tools lately that have been helping; however, I am continuing to ask myself why. Why are these happening right now? What in my life has changed so much that panic is rearing its ugly head?. . . 

I'm not really sure & am still trying to figure it out, but it's teaching me to be more aware of myself & how I process/sort through things that catch me off-guard.

Jason took me out to dinner tonight so we could both get out & breathe in the last few moments of warm, fresh air before winter arrives. In that time, I realized what was really the issue. Why my body & brain can't work together at the some time is beyond me. Either way, dinner was nice & wonderful, and a perfect way to catch up & reconnect before Jason starts his practicum again. . . 

 

So, there it is. I'm going to keep practicing my new relaxation tools & use hard cider with fireball whiskey as a backup. 

Here's to being thankful that my husband is going to grad school for psychology & not a bartender. . . most of the time.

Cheers~

a single wife

Am I intentionally trying to be dramatic with my title? Possibly. 

Does it feel like that sometimes? Yeppers.

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Jason officially started his practicum about 1 week ago, but had training through the month of September. The goal is for him to graduate May 2015. Awesome, right? Totally! I would love nothing more than to celebrate his quest for learning & gaining another degree. Can anyone say pay increase?

That being said, his practicum is 20 hours/week, that is on top of his already 40 hours a week at work. 

For this extrovert, that is unbearable. I work from home 2 days a week which is great when someone comes home at 430. But when you are at home for 12+ hours by yourself with limited interaction with the outside world (ok, I'm being a little dramatic to get my point across) you start feeling a little down.

Thankfully, I have a husband who is going to school for psychology & can give me a few pointers. 

1. Get out of the house
   Now, this doesn't mean going anywhere necessarily, even just stepping onto our balcony. Breathing the fresh air into my lungs changes things for me. It refreshes me & helps my clarity a bit.
2. Be with people
   Yes. My extroverted self needs to be around people. Period. I was recently chatting with a dear friend about how I go insane when I'm drinking 1 cup of coffee at home vs. how I don't feel it as much at work. Because there are people there that I can just start talking to and help get a little bit of my crazy out :)
3. Get a part-time job
   This was initially a great idea!... and then we both realized that nothing around the apartment will get done if we are both working 40 hours at our full-time jobs and then both of us basically have part-time jobs. We will have no meals, clean clothes and our place will be a pit. So, we settled for... well, I have no idea yet. Babysitting? Cleaning houses? Who knows. But, getting out there, being productive & possibly earning a few bucks? Perfect.

So... you might be asking yourself. Hey! I want to get Lauren out of the house! 

OR

Hey! I could really use a babysitter this weekend! 

Well, here I am folks. A full-grown human begging to hang out with you, or your children, or your dirty house, or anything to help get me through the next few months, that truly are already feeling like an eternity.

Call me. email me. write me a letter! share me with your friends! anything :) What's a few minutes for a lifetime of knowing that you eased my sanity just a little bit during a time in need.

For now?... while I wait for all of your comments & replies about how you, too, can help? I'll continue to watch Walter White & Jesse Pinkman make meth & be really thankful that I do not need to resort to that.. at least for now! ;)

End. Scene.

 

 

i am me.

Well, it's been awhile. There hasn't really been a reason other than I just haven't had inspiration. 

Correction: I've had inspiration, I just haven't wanted to sit down & write. Especially after sitting at a desk all day.

So, here I am. Sitting at home, watching Law & Order, and enjoying the late summer breeze.

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Let's talk about the title. This has been something that has been on my mind so much lately, and is showing itself in many places.

Someone shared the below the other day. I printed it off & have it pinned in my cubicle at work.

I feel like I want to put this one the forehead of everyone that I talk to as a reminder to myself. Oh, and add it to my forehead as well so others can see it.

How many times do I (we) find myself (ourselves) walking around life trying to fit in. Trying to take pictures with my phone instead of my fancy camera because it's too distracting. Or trying to write the perfect email to someone knowing that it'll never be as good as someone else's. 

I don't know about you, but it is exhausting & frankly, I am kind of over it.

I want to be me. I want to be the person I am evolving into & not a nice little cutout of what I think someone else looks like. 

So, here's to me being high maintenance when it comes to my drink order at a work happy hour. To hauling along my camera, 2 lenses & taking beautiful pictures that I will treasure. To eating a sandwich on white bread at work while everyone else eats their salad. To loving those that I love & what I love without any fear.

To writing this post & not giving a damn about possibly having a drink while I slowly ease myself into not caring about what people think about my writing.

Cheers~