It's one of those weeks where the thoughts run though my head in an almost overwhelming gush, leaving me pulled in many directions but unable to actually accomplish anything. At home, I am consumed by projects, such as Kitchen 2004TM. I want to paint, but before that, I need to scrub the walls, patch up that mysterious hole near the ceiling, buy new paint, and clean the kitchen. And then I get drawn into researching how I would go about painting the fridge so that it goes better with the new look (because ugly beige just doesn't match with the new white cabinets or the white stove). But should the fridge be white or something wild, like coral or lime? And hey, I should refinish that little table that's on my porch. I think green would be nice. Which tiles should I pick for the kitchen floor? And hey, maybe I should clean the living room before I do any of that.
So I have done nothing.
The same goes for my freelance projects. Jenell, Olivia, Marian. I so much want to play with my kitchen, rather than working tomorrow. I just have to remind myself that work=a new sofa.
At work, the problem is poorly defined projects and a feeling of inadequacy. There's nothing quite like the thought "I am a talentless hack" to send you surfing the web for hours.
And then I read Jenell's blog and I feel inarticulate. Or perhaps just sad. Because I truly wonder whether we (the church) will ever have a healthy view of sexuality, expecially for singles. This week I have had feelings of regret at never having slept with my first boyfriend. Trust me, these are not feelings I've ever expected to have. Perhaps it's all part of the "what if things had been different?" questions we all have. Or perhaps it's a sense that I missed out on something wonderful because of fear or misinformation. There are nights where I look at my bed and think "so much wasted potential." It's hard not to feel jealous of the friends who have been married 3, 5, 10 years. The third birth announcements from two separate girlfriends (both younger) sent me into a downward spiral of anger and despair.
Those who lose children or are infertile get sympathy and prayer. Those of us who feel trapped in the same situation are given no support, with the added burden of being unable to even try to do anything about it (short of desparately surfing dating sites for someone who appears half-way normal).
Posted by rachel at February 5, 2004 05:31 PM
I'll take great sex in a great bed for $5000, Alec.
Colleen calls "it", or at least the guy on the Bachelorette this season who talks too much, "Flippy McFlapper," which I think is very funny.
Posted by: kp at February 9, 2004 08:08 AMYes, Jenell, that really is my bed (thanks in part to Grandma's Christmas gift). It's really pretty.
I think I have to go with KP & the sex IN a great bed answer. :)
Posted by: Rachel at February 9, 2004 03:35 PM
I said I was out of town...but I found a computer here (they have them in Rochester). Rachel, what really stood out for me in your blog was the photo of that great bed - is that really yours? And which is better - sex or a really great bed? It might be a tough call.
I just feel for you. I see the similarities between my situation and yours and many other women - a cavernous and seemingly eternal longing, even tho the specific stories are different. And I don't know what the right view of sexuality is, but I think this is the right process for figuring it out.
Love, love, love,
Jenell
P.S. What you call "articulate", James calls "jabber-jaw" (or, if you prefer, "chatterbox", "jaw-flapper" or "yapper").
Posted by: Jenell at February 6, 2004 07:36 PM