I don’t want to live here, in this room, in the same four walls that I’ve been staring at since I was 4.  I don’t want to be three minutes from my old church and I don’t want Brew N Bake to be my hangout spot.  I don’t want to be constantly running into people I used to know, who don’t know me and never knew me at all.  
Maybe it’s pride, too.  I don’t want to have to tell everyone, “oh, never mind, I changed my plans.  Again.”  Because everyone jokes about how I can’t ever decide, because I want to do everything.
– an email to the girls

I had orientation for UH on Friday.  And I thought that it was okay, and everything was going to work out, and my head was buzzing, my heart was tight with excitement,

but my advisor didn’t give me all of the puzzle pieces that I need.

Forget the metaphors –

the advisor I spoke with told me that my plan wasn’t an option (even though everything I had read said it was), and she didn’t tell me everything I needed to know.

Like how a teaching certificate prepares you to teach high school, and that I have to pursue a Teaching and Learning BS to teach first grade.  Like how I’ve taken exactly three classes that would transfer over for that degree.  Like how I probably ought to go talk to an advisor from the school of education.

Instead, she threw so many suggestions of minors at me that I allowed myself to get distracted by all of the new, exciting opportunities.


And now everything is up in the air again.  And now I have to reconfigure my degree plan.  And now I may not be able to transfer for another semester – I may have to continue at BC or commute to Pearland,

and I am disappointed.  I’m disappointed to be stuck in this little town where you have to drive an hour to get anywhere good.  Where everything shuts down by 10 pm.  Where everyone I’ve ever lost still lives, whether in actuality or in memory.

Where I feel like my wheels are turning and turning and turning, and I’m not getting anywhere, because, don’t get me wrong, B-County is great.  I love my home.  But it’s a black hole for those who aren’t motivated, and, while I’m probably too motivated, I can feel my wheels getting stuck.

I have a friend, a songbird, who was unhappy in a relationship once.  She stayed, because it’s what everyone else wanted.  It’s what was expected.  But being with him made her unhappy, and she stopped singing.

That’s how I feel.  I feel like B-County is a great guy – someone, lots of people, can be happy here.  I want to be happy here, someday, later, when I get my business going.

But that’s not now.  That’s my Someday.  When I’ve worked some of the Adventure out of me, when I’ve settled the wanderlust.

It may sound melodramatic, but I can feel myself shrinking.  I can feel my roots trying to stretch, and they keep hitting walls.  I’m cramped; there’s too much of me, and not enough of everything else here, because everything is the same,

and I’m so very tired of these same four walls I’ve been staring at since I was 4.


  1. We could switch your bedroom to the other room…

    I kid. I kid.

    I totally understand — I know you don’t think I do, but I really do. And when I try to offer thoughts for your consideration, it’s not to keep you here. It’s to caution you against making changes just for the sake of change. Because those kind of changes will not make you any happier than you are right now.


  2. “I want Jesus. I want to be completely and totally saturated in him, and maybe it is an unrealistic desire,

    but I want Jesus. I can’t decide where to go to school when I graduate in a few months. I can’t decide what I want to go to school for. I probably won’t be able to decide what to wear in the morning, or how to fix my hair, or what to eat for lunch ~

    but I know that I want Jesus.”

    From one of your earlier blogs — I encourage you to focus on that, and the rest will fall into place. I love you.


  3. I think I may say this too often for it to be taken seriously, but — THIS is my favorite post. Without a doubt. It’s a strange enough feeling when you connect with someone else’s words like they’re your own, but even more so when you know too well the place they are describing. ❤️


    1. Aww – thanks! I always smile reading your comments; it’s – I don’t know, almost exciting to know that other people feel the same way. Makes things feel less isolated, you know?


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s