Expectations

I have a problem.


I have expectations. Of my self and others. I expect that people have a purpose. I expect that the human race is ultimately good. For people to have manners and courtesy and values and goals. I don't think that everyones goal is to be President or CEO (rich or powerful) but just to be a better person. To be a good human being. To be kind and gracious. To have a better understanding of the people around us or just ourselves. That we continually evolve to be better versions of ourselves. I know none of us are perfect, but shouldn't we strive to be at least better!?!

This problem is very real and very serious. See, because there are people who don't care or evolve for the better; instead they degress, and this upsets me.

This makes me crazy. What a waste. A waste of space, air, time, effort... Some of the most pondered questions are "What is our purpose? What does it all mean? What is the meaing of the Universe?" It would seem that we would seek to learn the answers. Yet it is painfully apparent that there are those whose only purpose seems to be to loaf. (Perhaps those people evolved from leeches.)

Alas, I need help with this problem. How do I come to terms with the likes of this plague?

An Intimate Moment

I haven't had a beau in over 7 years and I haven't been "intimate" in 4 years.

But you know what I miss most? Kissing.

You know what I long for? Hugs and cuddles.

I miss being in love. I miss watching movies on the couch all curled up together. I miss sleeping in the arms of someone who loves me. I miss holding hands. I miss strong gentle hands through my hair. I miss touches on my cheek or shoulder.

I want to have conversations about what to do for dinner. I want to discuss wheat bread over white bread or which detergant did we not like. I want to have pillow talk on rainy Sundays wrapped in each others arms. I want to plan weekend getaways and how we are are going to spend our retirement. I want to listen to him and I want him to want to listen to me. I want to be in love.

Lasting Love.


Am I a hopeless romantic?

A silly girl who daydreams too often?

Is that really too much to ask for?

Work-aholic

Hello, my name is Jodi and I am a work-aholic.

I guess it must have started in the military...though it might have been even before that. While staitoned in Florida, I would stay late to get caught up on the work that hadn't been done for doing another persons or helping customers. (Though it seems I did have some form of a social life then).

Then I went on to Korea and often worked weekends. In fact, on one occasion, the Commander actually ordered me to go home.

Then it was off to Germany, but to be honest, it was Europe and I tried to make the most of it. I didn't travel as much as I should have or would have liked to... but I was working (shaking my head and sighing).

.... I am sure you get the idea by now.


I think people are workaholics for different reasons. Some are very goal oriented... but I don't think that is me. Some are power driven to climb the ladder... but I am not that either. No, I am the one who, while I really do have a lot of work, uses it as an excuse to not go home and be lonely or bored or deal with family who is at home. ...at least that is my theory.

My mother has a different theory. She says that I have a need to please people. She says that I do this to seek approval and be liked. ...Let's evaluate this, shall we.

Let's see. First, I am the oldest and had to be responsible for two toddlers. If I didn't do a good job, I was beaten...(No, I am kidding, I am not Sybil). I was punished though and usually that meant grounded. Which what was the difference, I had to be home whether I was or wasn't because she was going to school all day and worked at night. It wasn't like my "father" was around to help.
Secondly, while I might have been the oldest, my brother came next and he is the only son (spoiled), the miracle baby because Mom didn't think she could have anymore (spoiled rotten), and then had complications with birth and was premature (filthy stinking brat)! Then there is my sister who is the baby... need I say more. This was my competition. The precious boy and the baby girl. I was just there to take care of them (and that is how I felt). I could never finish a story to Mom for their interuptions. I was always in trouble for their breaks, messes, or deliberat falls. Of course I was craving for attention!!!


So back to the military; a female Chief Master Sergeant came to address a group of us one day about her career. I think the "intension" was probably "How to make Chief" or something to that effect. Instead it seemed more heart-warming. She confessed that while she had achieved a prestegious military rank, she had sacrificed so much more to get there. She had lost her family. She made it very clear that one must know what is more important to them; family or career. It is very hard to balance both and one tends to lose sight of or take for granted the things that matter most.
I took that very much to heart. I didn't want to be a lonely spinster and have no one but just my name on a door. ...but since I don't have a husband, I guess if I have to put myself into something, it might as well be work. Besides, I believe in taking pride in ones work.



So what makes me a workaholic? Well, I know I need to get out and I really want to but I can't seem to stop. I seem to have a crutch, called work. How ironic is that?!?!

I have such dreams. I think about taking some classes, but I just don't have the time. I think about joining a theatrical group, but when will I find the time? I need to meet other people but I just have so much work to do, I can't leave now. ... maybe next week... next month.... later.


My greatest fear is being alone. Of working and working and never finding anyone. Of losing myself and my identity to my work and never finding anyone to share my life with.

Light in the Dark Hours

Recently I found myself in a Dark Place. It is a hard place to be in. To know that despite knowing better, my mind would still conjour up such dark thoughts; such depressing and overwhelming feelings. I found an interesting blog that served as a support group of sorts, to remind me others go through this too. I felt a little like "Girl Interrupted".

But the real ray of light in my dark hours were my friends. They are wonderful! Heather wrote me from the other side of the planet (Korea) to check on me and see if I was okay. Dawn sent a message of love and compassion! Even an ol' beau took the time to drop a line of concern and empathy.

I know I am rich with blessings of wonderful friends. I am eternally thankful for each of them. I never lose sight of that! I just wished they were a little closer (sigh).

Thank you for being a ray of light in my dark hours.

a Dark Place

I am depressed. I am lonely. I am in a place with no friends and no love-life. I feel like no one cares about me, how I feel, or what I think. I feel like I should shut my mouth and not speak again. Never to burden anyone with my troubles, thoughts or opinions. I honestly feel like I just don't want to be alive here. I want to be in a bright, warm and happy place. This place is dark, cold, lonely and depressing. I feel alone, uncared for here. (Disclaimer: I AM NOT SUICIDAL AND WILL NOT ATTEMPT HURTING MYSELF)

It is kinda scary feeling this way. It feels like I am losing a battle for my sanity.

Aside from turning 32 in a few weeks and still single, having no romantic interests, local friends to hang out with, no one to really talk to, dating prospects, cultural hangouts or anything resembeling a social life; my life is okay.

I really don't have a reason to feel depressed. ...but I do.... and in a big way.