Sunburns and Lemonade

Hey all! How are your respective summers going?

I'm sitting here on this pleasant day with sunburnt shoulders, contemplating a glass of lemonade. Awesome stuff it is!

In case you are wondering, I am indeed back at Wendy's. The people I'm working with this summer are fun so time goes by fast. I don't have as many hours as I'd like, but it's not bad. Helping to compensate for this is house-sitting.

I've been spending my off hours swimming, bike riding, reading, calligraphy...ing..., drawing, and generally enjoying myself. Soon I'll hopefully be starting a sewing project which shall, Lord willing, be finished and make it's grand debut up at NLand once the weather turns cool.

The dark cloud hanging over this summer is of course the possibility of not returning in the fall. Just below and a little to the left is the image of my retarded and dead lappy floating in a ghostly manner.

I wanna Mac! But that doesn't seem like it's going to happen... :o(

Oh, happiness! I got my Intro to Lit summer lude paper back and I got an 80% on it! WHEE! I was sooo happy!

Adios!

A Frank Confession

So, not 35 minutes ago I was all sulky about the realization that I shall end up at Wendy's once more. It's not that it's a bad job it's just that I really really really don't like working fast food. And for as much as I don't like that I don't like smelling like it even more.

For as much as I think it splendid that my manager holds my job for me, and for as much as I am eternally grateful for it - I dread it. I seriously dread it. I dread the thought of going back, each morning I went in I had to force myself in or turn off emotions so I apathetically went through the motions - I really dreaded the job.

And yet - and yet I find myself looking at my schedule of events for tomorrow and seeing calling Wendy's at the top of the list. I have hunted for other jobs, I have prayed and begged not to go back, I have put off the dreaded phone call as long as possible and still I am finding myself forced to.

I really want to throw myself a pity party. I really want another job. I'd really like to be able to get paid for doing things I actually like to do, but it seems I'm not allowed to just yet. Whether this is a result of a lack of a go-get'em personality or what have you, I don't know. I have a sneaking suspicion this is Divine Sovereignty at work but I cannot say for certain.

For those of you reading thinking that I am sulking and pouting - I agree with you. But mind you I'm telling you where I was... 43 minutes ago. Between then and now a certain poem I've read several times throughout the years came to mind and I fear I now owe Mr. Herbert a thank you.

THE COLLAR.
by George Herbert
I STRUCK the board, and cry’d, No more ;
I will abroad.
What ? shall I ever sigh and pine ?
My lines and life are free ; free as the rode,
Loose as the winde, as large as store.
Shall I be still in suit ?
Have I no harvest but a thorn
To let me bloud, and not restore
What I have lost with cordiall fruit ?
Sure there was wine,
Before my sighs did drie it : there was corn
Before my tears did drown it.
Is the yeare onely lost to me ?
Have I no bayes to crown it ?
No flowers, no garlands gay ? all blasted ?
All wasted ?
Not so, my heart : but there is fruit,
And thou hast hands.
Recover all thy sigh-blown age
On double pleasures : leave thy cold dispute
Of what is fit, and not forsake thy cage,
Thy rope of sands,
Which pettie thoughts have made, and made to thee
Good cable, to enforce and draw,
And be thy law,
While thou didst wink and wouldst not see.
Away ; take heed :
I will abroad.
Call in thy deaths head there : tie up thy fears.
He that forbears
To suit and serve his need,
Deserves his load.
But as I rav’d and grew more fierce and wilde,
At every word,
Methought I heard one calling, Childe :
And I reply’d, My Lord.