Limbo

I'm in this strange in between of life.

See, I really don't want to make a career of working in retail. I could do it, but I really don't want to. For a myriad of reasons. The hours, the lack of weekends off, feeling stuck in this time-warp of never ending stuff that must be done to appease the higher ups (even though it's tedious). Now that last one I understand will happen everywhere. That'd be fine and good if I could just figure out what to do.

On one hand, I really don't mind working at Staples. I like my coworkers, they seem to tolerate me (despite the fact that I'm very obviously an outcast due to my Christian beliefs), and I bring home a somewhat respectable paycheck every week. I can go to church every Sunday and tend to have Fridays off. It's a pain to get a weekend off, but eventually I get to see my friends up north (and the few down south) again.

But it really isn't what I want to be doing. Is that so bad? I feel as though it is. Like I'm not being content with where I am. Now here's where I struggle: I'm frustrated with where I am because there are so many other things I'd rather be doing. Things I think would help a myriad of people far more than me trying to make copies every day and not get yelled at or reprimanded or treated like a 2 year old for doing one thing wrong.

I think that's what bothers me the most. These stupid little things that people nit pick on. Never do they cause a cataclysm of destruction. Never do they really hang up the well oiled machine. But somehow I'm still berated like I hit the button of doom. Treated like a child, I'm scoffed at as though it's okay - like I won't care that I'm being trampled across and ridiculed.

I'm twenty-four. I have a four year degree and I think, a pretty good head on my shoulders. I don't get everything right - I admit when I screw up and I admit when things don't get done due to my inability. Doesn't this entitle me to a little respect? That's all I really want. Respect. And I feel like, sometimes, I just don't get it where I am.

Sometimes, I feel like that doll thrown into the corner again. It's not to anyone's fault. It's probably my own doing. I don't know how to relate to people, I guess. I'm the odd one out and I don't know how to change that without completely destroying my spiritual life.

How do I change my approach without the sheer destruction of who and what I am? Or is this a losing battle? Can my one little light of attempted goodness really help someone? How am I to know?

I guess this is life. Move ahead and look for the doors that open. And I guess when none open, start searching for the window.

Happy adventuring.

Currently [re]Writing: Unity
Currently Reading: Hood by Stephen Lawhead
Currently Listening to: "For the Beauty of the Earth" by Barlowgirl