Listening to 90s Christian music while working on my professor's manuscript. One of those Saturdays. Filled with doing work I should have done during the week and domestic tasks like washing clothes and cleaning my bathroom. I know, totally livin' the dream.
There's something about 90s music that makes me feel hopeful about the world. It came from a time when I felt less jaded about things and everything was somehow better. I guess everyone feels that way about the music of their teenagehood.
A couple of things rattling around in my mind: philosophical debates with an atheist friend I adore but who gets under my skin, the prospect of my own Bring Your Colleagues to Church Day tomorrow, the prospect of a guy in the department wanting to know if I'd "be interested in getting coffee or lunch sometime," the ever-approaching comps deadline that I still feel woefully underprepared for.
Part of me wants to write letters to all of these things that are rattling around in my mind, as I am wont to do, but maybe it's just better to pray about them/chill out about them.
I will make an admission: It's hard to be consistent. I constantly struggle with my tendency to be all over the map. My little froggy legs want to make leaps to where I feel more comfortable, to where I'm doing nothing other that what I want to do simply because I feel like doing it. But then I have to remind myself of something really important: Being consistent and sticking to my guns is the only thing that has kept me out of the hole.
So, what am I doing wasting time by blogging when there's so much to be done? Manos a la obra, honey.
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