I have a confession. This morning was pity party time, attendance 1. I've been here a whole week and still don't have all my things unpacked. It's harder organizing and combining two households than I remembered. I've been here a whole week and have had no calls about any of the applications and resumes that I've sent out.
This is not how things were supposed to go. I had a plan.
I'm not sure how it happened, but somewhere in my life I got the notion that my self-worth should be directly connected to my performance, namely schoolwork when I was younger and then employment. If I did well in that area, I was valuable. If I did poorly, not so valuable.
That's how I became a workaholic....and now I'm in detox and hating it.
When the pity party was over and I realized that I'd wasted half the day, I decided to be a little productive and run some errands. As I was leaving the bank, I spied across the street a thrift store. Have I mentioned how much I love getting a good deal?
What I didn't realize before I went in was that this thrift store is part of the rescue mission across the street. So as I was perusing housewares for picture frames, baskets, and such, across the store two ladies were discussing the shelters they've lived in so far while they helped their kids pick the clothes the mission was giving them so they would have something to wear to school.
Ashamed of myself, I took my 2 small items to the register and politely wished the clerk a good day. As I got in my safe, comfortable truck, I thanked God for the paycheck I had just put in the bank, for the things I have, the food I was going to buy at the grocery store....and, yes, for the job I don't have yet but that I'm attempting to wait patiently for because I know He will supply just as He always has. In the back of my mind, I though of this old Dottie Rambo song I learned as a child.
Most of all, thank you, God, for sending me to the thrift store today for my reality check.
This is not how things were supposed to go. I had a plan.
I'm not sure how it happened, but somewhere in my life I got the notion that my self-worth should be directly connected to my performance, namely schoolwork when I was younger and then employment. If I did well in that area, I was valuable. If I did poorly, not so valuable.
That's how I became a workaholic....and now I'm in detox and hating it.
When the pity party was over and I realized that I'd wasted half the day, I decided to be a little productive and run some errands. As I was leaving the bank, I spied across the street a thrift store. Have I mentioned how much I love getting a good deal?
What I didn't realize before I went in was that this thrift store is part of the rescue mission across the street. So as I was perusing housewares for picture frames, baskets, and such, across the store two ladies were discussing the shelters they've lived in so far while they helped their kids pick the clothes the mission was giving them so they would have something to wear to school.
Ashamed of myself, I took my 2 small items to the register and politely wished the clerk a good day. As I got in my safe, comfortable truck, I thanked God for the paycheck I had just put in the bank, for the things I have, the food I was going to buy at the grocery store....and, yes, for the job I don't have yet but that I'm attempting to wait patiently for because I know He will supply just as He always has. In the back of my mind, I though of this old Dottie Rambo song I learned as a child.
Roll back the curtain of memories now and then
Show me where you brought me from
Oh, and where I could have been
Remember I’m human, and humans forget
So remind me, remind me dear Lord
Most of all, thank you, God, for sending me to the thrift store today for my reality check.
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