42 Bullet Points I'm Grateful For

Writing a blog post of thanks is a cliché thing to do for Thanksgiving… but I really like cliché things, so I’mma gonna write one. These 42 (and a half) bullet points don't represent anything specific. It's just the number of bullet points I wrote before I decided that I wanted to go to bed. 

I’m thankful for:

•  My family, and my relationships with each family member. My sister recently got FaceTime, and I get to carry Amy J around my apartment on my phone talking to her. Or sit late at night and Skype her on my phone. My brother called me this week just to chat. And that pretty much made my week. My Dad and I exchange photos each day (which will be another blog post, sometime). My mom and I chat on the phone regularly
• My mom tells me where she’s going hiking so if they don’t show up I can tell people where to search for them so they hopefully don’t die.
• My mom also tells me when they arrive safely back in civilization so I don’t worry they died.
• Good health, and good health insurance. I went to the emergency room twice within two weeks this past summer, and the only reason I’m not A. Dead or B. Destitute is because of good doctors, and good health insurance. 
• I’m REALLY grateful for good health, good health insurance and good doctors. I’ve had a number of family members in and out of the hospital over the past (well, forever) year and I’m glad that those of them that are still here, are still here. 
• Homesickness. When I am sad about that, it lets me know that I have a place in my heart for my parents, my brother, my sister, and my home. It makes me realize how much I appreciate my family.  A lot of the time, I miss them—but it’s not too bad. I’m living my only life; I stay busy. But days like today, while I was having a fun Thanksgiving with friends I really missed being HOME. And I cried (later of course. When I was home alone. By myself. Don’t worry. I didn’t embarrass myself THAT much. I only spit milk up all over myself. No crying.)
• The lady at work who is determined to turn me into a lady. “Ladylike, Megan!  Walk ladylike!  You are too pretty to gallop, or tromp around like a man.”  “But Nicooooole! I don’t know any other way to waaaaalk.”  “Here. Let me show you.”  And, she also gives me her discarded gently used shoes. Love her.
• I’m also grateful that she tells me not to fall into the trap of eating out frequently. She was all “You better not be falling into that trap! It’s too expensive!” That’s true mentor-like love, I tell you.
• The man at the metro who put seven dollars on my card when I forgot my wallet so I could get to work and back home.
• Friends. They make life a lot better.
• I have a job. I know many people who aren’t so blessed.
• At my job, I sit next to a window. The sunshine keeps me warm and happy.
• Internet. I can talk to, look at, chat with, type to all of my friends and family members. I keep in touch with a lot more because of it.
• My phone. Because I can text. Even if I don’t ever text you back, but it’s not that I don’t love you, it’s just that I am a HORRIBLE texter. Speaking of which, I need to go text Chase back.  Aghk.  It’s been hours. Sorry Chase!
• People move to DC. Lots of people. Because then I find people that I know.
• People will come to DC to visit me. Because it’s awesome here. And I’m awesome. And they want to see DC. And me.
• People will move to DC. And then I get to see them. Because they’re awesome.
• Having enough to eat. Every now and then someone on the street will ask me not for money, but for food. It makes me truly appreciate that I can come home each day and stuff my face. On days like today, my entire day was devoted to stuffing my face. And I’m grateful for the ability to do so.
• Milk
• Caitlyn. She is my DC family. We make food together, play together. She makes me laugh, and laughs at my stupid jokes. Around her I can be myself. She lends me running clothes, encourages me in my one treat a day health kick, and lets me cheat when I have really bad days.
• My AMAZING roommates. I come home each day to a HOME and not just an apartment. They are friendly, supportive, funny, and fun. And they cook with me. And that’s pretty great.
• The gospel. It has given me an immediate social group, and it gives me the chance to repent again and again for all of my stupid mistakes. The Savior really is what makes the difference in my life.
• The Comcast guy (Darnell) who let me install my own cable and internet devices.  Otherwise I would still be without technology. One week was enough.
• The week I spent without cable and Internet. It was good for my soul.
• A comfy bed.
• Those people who you call when you’re standing on the edge of a cliff. Who don’t make a big deal of it, but are always there for you when you need them the most.
• Youth. I have no idea what I’m doing with my life, no idea where I’m going, hardly an inkling of where I’m at—and it’s okay. Because I’m young.
• Experience. I’m constantly being told “you act so much older than your age” and I chalk that up to having experience some things that make me realize that my life is not the only important thing in the world, and I’m not the center of everybody’s universe—hardly even my own.
• Boundaries.
• Dear Prudence. She assures me that other people lead lives FAR more messed up than my own.
• Couches, Tables, and other furnishings. Because living for a few weeks without them was kinda fun, but not great.
• A mini fridge to hold all of our drinks.
• Kind texts sent out of the blue.
• Phone calls from old friends
• Writing things down, and realizing how blessed I am.
• Painful experiences. I grow more from pain than I ever will from easy things. And I'm glad to have the opportunity to have grown. (Notice that's past tense. I dont' appreciate GROWING. THAT'S always painful.) 
• People who let me complain to them
• Friends who allow me to talk them into running 5ks with me.
• Susan, who wakes me up at 6 to go to the gym.
• A bank account that is growing more quickly than it is shrinking.
• Food. Because dude. That stuff tastes GREAT.
• Cooking, because it’s relaxing and awesome.
• Typings. Because if I were writing this on a piece of paper, it would be ILLEGIBLE.
• Thought Catalog. ‘Cause it makes me think.
• You. Because you are at the bottom of this list. Even if you didn’t read it all. Because anybody with this link who spent the time to scan over this list is someone I care about. Even if I don’t know you very well, if you’re my Facebook friend, if you’re a random stranger. I care about you. Maybe not deeply, because that would be ridiculous and untrue, and I don't care about you all the same. But I care about you. Because I met you once, because you're my friend, because you're a human being. Because sometimes, you're probably lonely. And because I like people. 

If this isn't love, I don't know what is. :) 

Meggers

Hot Chocolate Is My Coffee

I have a couple of options for my commute in the morning. Most of which have their ups and their downs:

Option 1

Get up approximately one hour before needing to leave. Get ready. Approximately 1 hour 15 minutes before needing to arrive at work walk to the bus stop. Get on the bus—doze off.  Arrive at metro, wake up, get off bus. Wait to get on the metro, get on metro. Doze off. Get off the metro, wonder how I miraculously managed to wake up just in time for the right stop. Say a quick “Thank you, God.” Walk to bus stop, get on another bus DO NOT DOZE OFF, continuously remind myself so that I do not miss my stop. Get off the bus. Make sad eyes at Starbucks as I walk past because I do not drink coffee. Arrive at elevator. Get on elevator. Go upstairs. Search desperately for my keycard to the office, hoping I didn’t forget it again. Find keycard buried beneath keys and GPS. Wonder why I keep my GPS in my purse. Enter Office.

Public Transportation. Busses, man. Cheap travel's legit. 

Option 1.1

All the stuff the same except: get on one metro. Stay on metro--wake up just in time for the right stop. Say a quick "Thank you, God" walk approximately one mile to workplace. Admire the scenery on the way. Considering stopping at Baked & Wired, think better of it. Arrive at elevator. Get on elevator. Go upstairs. Search desperately for my keycard to the office, hoping I didn’t forget it again. Find keycard buried beneath keys and GPS. Wonder why I keep my GPS in my purse. Enter Office.

Pretty walk in Georgetown side-streets C&O Canal

Option 2

Get up. Look at clock. Wonder why I didn’t get up the first time my alarm went off. Vow to go to bed earlier. Know that’s a vow that’s as good as broken. Roll out of bed. Decide to rock the sexy messy look  (Thanks for the rationalization advice, Susan). Choose clothes. Scramble to find keys. Consider breakfast; decide against breakfast. Scramble to find phone. Lose phone while finding keys. Find keys and phone at the same time. Exit apartment. Ride down elevator. Curse every person that chooses to ride the elevator at the same time as me this morning. Exit building. Search the parking lot for car. Use key beeper thing on my keys to find the car. Say a quick “Thank you, God.” For technology. Get in car. Use GPS to find workplace. Fight traffic to get to work. Use valet parking beneath office. Take my GPS out of my car and put it in my purse because they don't lock my car during the day. Walk to elevator. Arrive at elevator. Get on elevator. Go upstairs. Search desperately for my keycard to the office, hoping I didn’t forget it again. Find keycard buried beneath keys and GPS. Remember why I keep my GPS in my purse. Enter Office.

Option 3

Get up at a reasonable time. Get ready. Grab a bite of food. Talk to Susan a little. Ask Katherine what time she’s leaving. Hope Katherine offers a ride. Ask Katherine for a ride if she doesn’t offer (Which is rare. Because Katherine is really nice.) Ride with Katherine to work. Try to have conversation. Fail—because I don’t like morning. Try anyway, because I like Katherine and she’s nice, and giving me a ride. Get out of car at a stoplight by the Watergate. Thank roommate profusely for ride. Begin walk to Georgetown. Walk approximately one mile. Begin to wake up. Think that Georgetown is beautiful. Consider stopping at Baked & Wired, think better of it. Arrive at elevator. Get on elevator. Go upstairs. Search desperately for my keycard to the office, hoping I didn’t forget it again. Find keycard buried beneath keys and GPS. Wonder why I keep my GPS in my purse. Enter Office.

Naked Chapstick at Office. Important to starting Day.

Once I get to my office I start work for the day. That means a lot of different things right now. I’m a temporary HR assistant at the Bank of Georgetown. Sometimes I know what I’m going to do for the day; sometimes I get assignments as I go. It’s an awesome job; I really like it. But I’m not entirely sure I’m going to stay there permanently, yet.

Potential reason to stay?  This phone says my name. 

Sometimes, as I’m working, I feel my eyelids drift shut. It’s at those moments I revisit that brief moment walking past Starbucks. What can I do?  What can I do? On Tuesday, I realized what I could do—and it was magical.

I stood up from my desk and walked into the kitchen. Glancing around, I located the box of Swiss Miss. I pulled out a coffee cup, filled it with water, nuked it (I didn’t realize the coffee machine would dispense hot water until after I had murdered my poor coffee cup with the evil microwave) poured in my hot chocolate and took it back to my desk to nurse for the rest of the morning.

Best. Idea. Ever.

I hummed happily as I stirred my hot chocolate with the nifty plastic coffee stirrer, and did my work. That’s all I needed. It was a fix. It was happy. It was a ton of calories that I am completely happy to drink. And it is possibly my new addiction.

Hot Chocolate Is My Coffee—none of that Diet Coke stuff.

~Meggers

Sleep Convert

Anyone who knows me knows that I have this habit of not sleeping enough. For example, it’s currently 1:37 am and I should totally and completely be sleeping.  In fact, in the little Facebook “About You” section, the only thing I have written is “I should be sleeping” Go ahead.  Go check it. Go check it right now.  That’s right.  And I didn’t change it just now--it’s been there since my freshman year of college. 

I visited Utah two weekends ago. And I was standing talking to some friends in the hallway of the library and Kelsey told me, “Megan! You look fantastic!  Have you lost weight?” with my ego stroked I felt like doing a little happy dance, but I smiled.

“No, I haven’t.” (Actually, put on five pounds.  Yikes.  But HEY. She thinks I look smokin’. Score.)

“Well, I guess when I spent most of my time with you, you were always short on sleep. You were forever coming in and saying, ‘Agh, I only got three hours of sleep last night.’”  Note to self, (again) stop telling people when you go to bed.

“Yeah, Meggers never gets any sleep.” Thanks, Peets.

“No she doesn’t!” Traitor, Eric, traitor.

“I do better now!” I protested hotly. Which, by the way, is true-ish.

“What time did you go to bed last night?” I’ve done a lot better since moving out to Washington D.C. However, in the days preceding my trip to DC I had a friend from Tennessee come visit me. So we stayed up late talking. Then I had a friend who was going to basic training bring ice cream and watch chick flicks. Then I woke up at 4 am Utah time to get on a plane, and went to bed at midnight because of spending time with my family. So… I wasn’t doing SO hot on the sleep thing, but I was doing pretty well because I’d slept 10 to 7 or so the next night.

Regardless. The deep dark circles under my eyes and sallow skin that used to be a byproduct of NOT sleeping are becoming visitors in my life instead of constant companions. And I’m going to be honest with you (don’t tell my Mother. She’ll say wise and smart like “I’ve always told you sleep is important) I LIKE sleep.

In fact, I like sleep so much that when people tell me they are going to pull all nighters to study for a test I say “NO. SLEEP. RETAIN SMART. AND EAT TOO.” And then I do things like sleep. Of course, as I do from time to time I stay up too late.  

But overall, I’m converted to sleep.  Speaking of which, I’m going to head to bed now.

Sweet Dreams, dear internet and lovely friends.

One of Those Days

Every once and a while I have those days… y’know those days that you don’t want to do anything, don’t want to go anywhere, and don’t want to see anyone?  Those days where anything besides getting out of bed, dragging yourself to the couch, and turning on a movie seems like a burden.  And even that is pushing it a little. 

Those days that you should be looking for a job so that you can find success in your life and not be a leech upon society. So you can feel good about yourself and your accomplishments. So that the past four years you spent working on a college degree aren’t all in vain, and you don’t end up just working at a restaurant—never going anywhere, and never doing anything meaningful, significant, or even just okay.

On those days none of my goals or aspirations matter—because the looming fear of failure is overwhelmed by the utter apathy.  It’s on those days that everything starts to speed up and slow down all at the same time.... everything youdo andthink startstoruntogether inanungrammaticalandhorriblestringofnonthingnessandallthesuddenmassiveamountsoftimehavepassedandyou’vewatchedanentireseasonofwhitecollarandwonderwhathappenedtoyouandhowyouenededupwhereyouare.

Sometimes one of those days turns into two of those days. And two of those days turn into three or four. And the next thing I know a week has passed and I hardly know what happened. Why haven’t I seen anybody I care about?  I remember getting a few invitations. In fact, at the beginning I distinctly remember sitting in my bathroom sink, winding my hair around my curling rod, and talking on the phone, telling a friend back in Utah that I was going to go out to dinner with some other friends that night.  Makeup, cute clothes, hairdo… and suddenly—just as it was time to leave—it was all too much effort. 

The decision to stay in compounded on itself; I could have texted friends, I could have called. But I didn’t. I didn’t want to. In fact, my apathy began to extend to those I regularly reach out to—my favorite people. I didn’t want to talk to anybody. This goes on for what feels like forever. And the only thing that can pull me out of it, is exactly what I don’t want when I feel that overwhelming apathy—go out.

So Monday, after a week of near recluse—I dragged my eyes open at 7:00 a.m.  There were thunderclouds outside. I shot off a text, “Are we still on with the storms?” I hoped and prayed the answer was no. I pulled my knees underneath my chest, wrapped my arms around my pillow, holding my phone in front of my nose.  “Yes.”

Damn.

I immediately said a prayer to repent for cussing so early in the morning.  I always regret starting the day off with vulgarity. Besides that, floating down the Shenandoah River in a tube with a bunch of people would be fun. Fun, Megan. Do you remember what that is? That’s what you do with other people. Outside of the walls of your apartment. Do you remember what outside looks like, Megan?  Or is it a distant floating memory? 

Somehow, forty-five minutes later I ended up sitting on the asphalt in the church parking lot, listening to people who I’d never met, but was apparently going to spend the day with talking. I fuzzily recall lying my head down on my little black purse and taking a nap in the middle of that parking lot. 

Somewhere in the next two or three hours spent napping, listening to cheerful conversations of people in the car, wracking my mind for things to say, regretting coming, and staving off a really weird stomach ache that was either wicked bad gas, hunger, or a violent illness, I started to have fun.

I started to remember that I like people. That they can be fun—that they might even like me too, if I’d ever do something besides nap. I blew up tubes until I got lightheaded, sat down—and did it again. I watched the collection of clear tubes sitting around the group of ten of us go from having specks of spittle to suspicious condensation on the inside. I floated down the river and talked to old friends, new friends, and possibly some frogs and turtles. I twisted and turned on the tube, fell into the water—chased my tube, fell into the water again, and caught the tube again. I ruined the bandages on my feet helping my plantar fasciitis. I drank a Gatorade on the water. We connected tubes with hands, and feet to hold lengthy conversations, and keep all 7 of us with tubes that hadn’t popped together—and three hours later, I’d started to feel normal again.

It’s really easy to forgot amidst all the job searching, and the hopelessness that spending some time with people can make everything just a little bit better. People are the real joy in life. It’s spending time with people that I care about, and finding new people to care about that makes the world go round. And the only way that I ever pull myself out of that sucking loneliness and apathy is to go out with people, do things with people; sometimes it’s friends, sometimes I find places to serve… but life is so much better with people that I care about, and people to be with.

So, for now, I’ll promise myself to get out of my house with my little band of Day-clubbers more often! Stephen, Caitlyn, Caleb, Ben and I all went to Trader Joe’s today. It wasn’t a long adventure, but it was an adventure. And it made the prospect of sitting down and searching for jobs for the next indefinite amount of time a little bit easier. 

I’ll probably forget this lesson. I’ll probably enter that pit of seclusion again at some point. But I’ll always remember after a period of time (hopefully shorter net time, guys.  Because GEEZE. One should not spend upwards of 72 hours without exiting one’s apartment. Ever.  My poor roommates. I did shower though, don’t worry. It was difficult. Because I couldn’t get my feet wet. But I managed) to leave my apartment and seek out friends. 

Because, dude. I’m a crazy without people. And I’m a crazy with people, too. But hopefully a better crazy.

~Meggers  

Back again, Back again, Jiggity Jig

So, it's been a while. I've learned that I'm not really very good about keeping blogs. Not am I good at journaling. I think that might be the antithesis of Mormon female, but it's the truth! So much has happened in the past few months it's crazy.

I keep thinking that life will slow down, and that things will become routine. Each semester I settle into a schedule that becomes almost second natures-- but things never become routine. I suppose I am grateful for that. I think if life was too routine I'd be miserably bored and I'd become tired of it. But every once and a while I wish I could have a couple of weeks of boring.

On the other hand, some of the exciting changes have been totally worth it. I'm dating a boy. His name is Peter. I like him. That's probably a good thing, since I'm dating him and all that. It's a little bit strange for me to be in a relationship. I've never been in a relationship before. I worry about whether I'm doing things right, or if I'm doing things wrong, or if there is no right way to do things and what's going on with him, and what's going on with me-- but when I'm with him things tend to settle down and I'm happy.

50 points for the Boy, he can make my brain stop running at 100 mph. Subtract 15 for the times he makes my mind race. He's still coming out pretty far ahead, there! Wonder if he'll ever read this?

School is winding to a close, in just a few months I will be a college graduate. I don't think I ever expected it to really happen, but it's snuck up on me and bitten me in the butt! What do I do with that? Where do I go from here?

It's been an anxiety ridden time, that's for sure. But I keep coming back to one thing when I feel like my anxiousness is going to overwhelm me-- God.

There only purpose to this picture is to display my sassiness.

My relationship with my Heavenly Father is the one constant that I've been able to completely depend on over the past few months. He's always there to listen to my prayers, my rants, my raves, even the occasional curse-- and if I let myself I can feel his love.

I spent three hours at the Temple today, and let me tell you-- the only place I DON'T mind waiting in line for a five minute procedure is inside the temple. Any place that can quell my impatience for three hours must be a marvelous place.

All in all, that's it. Life is good. God is great. People are Crazy.