Handle it.

I'm at Starbucks, determined to revise my problematic justification before I dare do anything else.  I will finish this today.  Nope, I don't even wanna hear it.  You will finish this today.

But everything I hear (snatched conversations), listen to (Pandora + Starbucks background music), read (FB newsfeed, CNN.com) think about ("How am I going to get this done?"  "How am I going to get through comps?"  "How is this relationship going to play out?") while trying to get to the matter at hand is making me tear up.  In the middle of Starbucks.  With a long since cold caramel brulee latte.

My friend said, "It's okay to cry.  It's just a human response.  Like laughing."  But I guess laughing is more socially acceptable than crying.  Laughing is more okay than crying.  Should it be?

I'm getting this revision done today.  I need to get it done so that I can do some more side editing for my prof.  Extra cash is nice, but I have to handle my own stuff first.

Handle my own stuff.  Handle it.  "It's handled."

Shall the thing formed say to him that formed it, Why hast thou made me thus? But it is a question that rests on my lips more often that I'd like to admit.

Can I say it?  I'm tired of this unsettled feeling.  That there is still so much work left to do before I can even think about settling in any manner anywhere in any concrete kind of way makes tears spring to my eyes.  I'm tired of being assaulted by cognitive dissonance.  It seems that there is no slice of space that will allow me to comfortably settle in.  The idea that I will just have to constantly navigate more or less acceptable spaces along with a constant bit of discomfort makes tears spring to my eyes.

This morning, I woke up and said, "Thank you, God, for taking care of me.  I have confidence in You."  I want to believe it so badly.  I want to believe it constantly and consistently.  Lord, I believe; help thou mine unbelief.