I need serenity

What a day.

I woke up this morning in Evansville and by 11 a.m. I was drooling on a desk in Upland, Indiana. Cheers for the invention of the automobile. Jeers for construction on 465. THAT was crap.

I almost nodded off a few times on the way back to Taylor. I definitely didn't want to be going back. The weekend had been amazing! I'd gotten to see so many people and truly enjoy and support my family. I even adored the 90 degree heat already baking the early May air. Anything but here. Anything but responsibility and work and stress.

It seems like every time I open my e-mail, there's another message asking me to do something more. I'm already way overloaded right now. I don't even know which way is up anymore. I am actually dreading the next couple of days.

Today was a roller coaster. When I got to school, I was absolutely exhausted. I haven't been awake so early since... I don't know when. Each class was yet another reminder of the mountain of unfinished tasks perched precariously atop my temple. I'm getting a headache.

There were brief moments of joy, like when I got a parking spot in English, or when I got through to a student I was tutoring, or when my wing (really Alicia, I think) sent me flowers. I do have reasons to smile... but...

There have been really dark times, too. All day, I've just been really spiteful. I'll look at people and just start yelling at them inside of my head. Then Kim came up to me in the hall and asked how I was doing. I asked her if she wanted the real answer or the fake one. She bravely asked for the real, and boy did I ever give it to her. Then she asked if we could pray and I actually said no! I know she was being sincere and that prayer is nothing to take lightly, but for some reason, I was just really repulsed. I think I totally offended her, but I didn't care. I just wanted to get to Bib Lit on time.

I think about Uncle Curt a lot. I think about his gored, lifeless body impaled by the side of the road. I think about how life is so short and so uncertain. I think about my Aunt Lana who, strong as she is, couldn't help but break down at the thought of him so helpless. She misses him so much. I do, too.

My dad took Nate and I out to dinner on Friday night. He sat silently at the table pulverizing the lemon in his water with a butter knife. His eyes seemed intent, yet vacant. I've never seen him so sad.

He told me he was proud of me going to DC, and, for the first time, I actually believed him. It's been a long road, but suddenly I see my dad for who he is. He's human. He's frail. He can only hurt me as much as I let him, and I guess he can only love me as much as I let him.

Another lesson learned.