yes, I mean no

"'I'm not religious, I'm spiritual'. You ever hear girls say that? 'I'm not religious, but I'm spiritual.' I go, 'Well I'm not honest, but you're really interesting.'" —Daniel Tosh

It's been one of those kick-them-when-they're-down weeks, and by "them" I mean "me." When Prof. Race told me that work was our greatest consolation, I rolled my eyes when I left his office. Now I'm beginning to see his point. There is something rewarding about accomplishing a task as piddly as it is. It gives the sense of order and justice. Right now the cause and effect button seems to be malfunctioning in my life. It's supposed to work a certain way: when I apply for a job I'm qualified, I should get it. When I ask for an awesome book for my class, my principal should say, "Of course. I'll do anything for a dedicated, talented teacher such as yourself." The wiring has gotten a little loose, and the desired outcomes did not come to be.

So to ward off my impending feelings of helplessness, I was productive today. I got up at 5:30am on a Saturday (I went to bed at 8:30--I forced myself to stay up. I could so have gone to bed at 7pm, but everybody knows you can't go to bed before Jeopardy.) I cooked oatmeal. I read about ten chapters in Genesis, which was oddly comforting. The bible is comforting in its very wildness and unexpectedness even in familiar stories. The cause and effect is on the blink-- grace does that. For instance, Jacob. Jacob is such an interesting, complex not altogether likeable character. He's sneaky. He's slick. He wrestles with God and gets a new name. Then his son Joseph is completely upright before God and men, and he's thrown into prison. But Joseph experiences God's grace and presence even in prison. God's wields his power and will in a very hands off way, yet he wields it with precision. I find comfort in that.

I spent most of the day in Gastonia, taking V. to get her done to give the Chief a break. I ran 6 miles on the Greenway while she got her done. I was afraid I'd be late if I ran the 8 I'd planned, but it would have worked out. I helped the Chief clean out her attic.

Then, I went over to M&B's and ate shepherd's pie and laughed and laughed and laughed. Whenever I hang out with them, I thoroughly enjoy myself. On the surface, our friendship makes no sense because we don't really line up in a traditional sense: we're so very different age, occupation, etc. But it definitely works. They have to enjoy my company because they keep asking for it. Our friendship reminds me of Emily Dickinson's poem that starts out with "The soul selects her own society." Friendship is no mathematical expression. I love how psychologists and other experts try to analyze and explain it. It's beautiful, wonderful mystery. I agree with CSL: friendship is the highest love.

(Sorry this is so disjointed... maybe I'll come back and edit some sense into it someday!)