Plan B?
For the past few days I've been really busy trying to work at Plan B. It was almost without any prior thought or planning that I plunged into it. I guess that is very typical of me. Contacting every possible person I could think of regarding suitable job openings, sending umpteen emails forwarding my CV to my contacts and my contacts' contacts, checking out websites of different research institutes that showed up in my Google search results, writing some of them emails saying how interested I was to work with them if given the chance and how I was dying to learn from them about their area of expertise, and finally also resorting to job sites although I had developed a bad taste for them from my maiden experience with job hunting a few years ago. Until I wanted to throw up last night, which is technically early this morning.
I should just give myself a break. I need to pause and breathe although my natural instinct is to react to the recent events in my life by charging back to prove to whatever demeaning forces are at work that I am NOT giving up. "No you can't bring me down!" It sounds all very positive at the first instance. Granted that I am a pretty optimistic person in general, but I know in my heart that I have been just functioning out of this fear I have of spending another year with nothing productive to do. I fear that I might have to just sit at home without any money to go out or to meet friends over coffee, without any classes to attend because at least that way I don't feel guilty about taking money from my parents and they would gladly give it to me without a disciplinary lecture about how I waste money; I fear that I will have absolutely nothing to do except sit at home, become a couch potato or an internet junkie and rot away, while facing the disappointment of my mother every single day because I don't help out at home and I don't do my chores. I make quite a pathetic daughter that way. I hate household work and I'd choose to go out and do something away from home instead, if given the choice. If I had to say this in a nice way I'd say acts of service is not one of the love languages I speak. Read Gary Chapman's book "The Five Love Languages" if you do not know what I'm talking about. Unfortunately my mother speaks that language very well. So I guess I will have to learn to speak it too if I want to show her that I love her. But man! It is so hard because it just doesn't come naturally. Anyway, I'm digressing.
Having come face to face with this fear I know I have to do something about it. I need to learn to trust in God again. I need to believe and hope again, and not act like I have been cursed to a life of mediocrity. You know how depressing mediocrity is? Or at least the way I see it. I have to submit these fears to God and follow His leading although I am so bad at this. This brings me to another fear I have of not receiving any clear direction for life the way it seems to happen so easily to some people. It's like they wake up one day and they know what their calling is. How nice that sounds and how nice it must be to know so clearly. I have so many things to learn but I cannot learn them just by pushing myself trying to get ahead. But that is what I seem to do most of the times. The fact of the matter is I cannot teach myself. I need somebody to learn from and for that I need to pause. I need to wait and learn whenever the teacher wishes to teach me. I need to learn to trust again. I need to learn to hope.
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