Categories: uncategorized
Date: 14 December 2004 22:58:29
Having endured my various moans and rantings, you'd probably be forgiven for doubting this, but at heart I'm basically pretty contented with my lot. I have two wonderful kids who bring me endless joy (OK, a few headaches with it, but without the headaches you wouldn't appreciate the joy so much, would you?). I have a job which 9 times out of 10 I love and find challenging and stimulating. I have a close and supportive family which is not something you can take for granted in today's society, and a good circle of friends. I have a nice bungalow in a lovely part of the country and sufficient income to live in comfort. And I have a fantastic relationship with God.
I'd just like to be someone else, just for today. No, not even someone else - I'd like to be the other me I could have been if I'd made different choices along the way. The feeling's caught me a bit on the hop.
Part of it has come, I'm sure, from the rather strange conversation I had with my minister yesterday in which he told me that, although he wouldn't stand in my way, he didn't feel that going forward as a local preacher was best for me or for the church. I think it's to do with his own personal feelings of unrest (that word is beginning to haunt me) as he doesn't see the local preacher role featuring in the future of the church. It's also to do with his reservations about me having time and it causing me more stress - I can't disagree with him on that one, but it doesn't make the sense of vocation any the less. It doesn't make any difference to me moving on with the training, but it sews seeds of discomfort - although maybe that's a good thing. God, a signpost would be helpful, please.
But the biggest cause of me sitting here feeling sorry for myself is that fact that I have missed my massage class again. I can see the whole thing falling apart because this is the third week where Dad hasn't been well enough to take care of the kids. I took them with me tonight, in the hope that they could sit in during the theory part of the lesson, but it turned out the whole evening's devoted to practical tonight, which means I miss out on three hours of practise (and being massaged).
I have the social workers on my back for not having done a load of financial paperwork, I have the building society on my back for failing to make any of the appointments to review my mortgage (because one or other of my men was ill, or because of school engagements), I can't go to yet another wedding this weekend because I can't leave Dad alone, and it looks like his trip to my sister's after Christmas won't go ahead because he's got to go back to the clinic for an appointment. Even Smudgelet's Christmas play has coincided with the evening I was hoping to go for the farewell dinner for the colleague with whom I had become close friends and whom I'll miss immensely after Christmas when she moves to the other end of the country.
Don't endulge me with hugs for this pathetic bout of self-pity - what I really need is a kick up the backside to tell me to get on with it and enjoy the good times to the full.