Anne Shirley and Office Work

Sometimes I feel like Anne Shirley and I are very much the same person. I would so love to be wandering through the woods, reading a dreamy sounding novel outloud, and shirking the responsibilities that are screeching at me (sometimes literally) from inside the building. But the bad news is, I'm in Iowa, I don’t have a set of woods to wander through, and wandering through the woods and reading a novel doesn’t do much for the bank account. I guess if I have to have a job though, I want it to be something I enjoy, or at least feel accomplished doing.

The bottomline is, work isn't meant to be fun...all of the time. Contrary to what The Office has taught me, I have to at least get some work done during the day. Today, though, I'm thinking about how thankful I am to have this job- and to have had the jobs I've had in the past. This is the 7th job I've had so far (8th, if you count babysitting), and my 1st "adult" job. I'm also thinking about how thankful I am that I took the job that I took in college- pretty much out of desperation. I applied seven places, and only got one interview. That job that I thought I didn't really want, ended up being one of the highlights of my college career and helped me land my current job. Whoa. talk about someone else having a better plan for me than myself.

I've been thinking a lot about what I'm thankful for lately, and let me tell you- I love having an office job. We even have a Phyllis and a Pam on our team. Unfortunately, Jim and Dwight aren't around, but still. It's so great!

Since working in an office,

I've had a lot of papercuts on my fingers. One on my nose, too, but that only happened once.

I sneeze. A lot. Sometimes in my hair, but that only happened once too. And that was embarrassing.

I key orders a lot, but I also think a lot. I have to continue my discipline of controlling my seemingly uncontrollable thought world and being disciplined to focus on work.

I’ve realized it’s really easy to hide out in my cubicle- but it’s more enjoyable to try to socialize with other co-workers when possible. Breaks are a good chance to sit down with my bran muffin and talk- even if just about the weather (which Iowa definitely keeps interesting).

I’ve learned that walking laps in a small storage warehouse can sometimes be the best stress-relief/energy boost, although, I’m not good at sharing that space. On my afternoon breaks, I tend to need that 15 minutes of quiet alone time.

Starting full-time and moving to part-time was/is the biggest blessing. It fits our lives perfectly, for now.

I've realized that in order for me to function most efficiently, I need to keep my desk and computer and clean and organized as possible. At the end of the day, I have to hang up my headset, file away my orders, stack my notebooks and pen, and throw out any unneccesary notes. Then I feel like I'm truly done with work for the day- everything is in it's place and I can go home and leave it all behind.

Water. Water, water, water. I have a 32 oz. bottle on my desk and drink all day long. If I don't finish at least bottle #2 before I go home, I stay until it's gone.

This job has been a blessing.

Speaking of blessings,

after I finish the late shift tonight, we're packing up and heading to Minnesota! Yay! We get to spend Easter with both of my Mom and Dad's sides of the family and we are so excited. Plus, it's sixty degrees right now, so that's pretty neat.

Have a Happy Easter Weekend everyone! Remember the reason that we celebrate.

-Hannah

A Short Note

It's been a little while since I've said hello to this little space. My thoughts have kind of been jumping to and fro, but never really wanting to settle on the page- or should I say, keyboard.

My heart has been a little heavy since hearing some news on Tuesday. News that a man not much older than I, passed away suddenly on Tuesday. I didn't know him personally, but I have friends who did, and I knew a little about him. Wow. If there's ever been anyone that I'm 100% is in Heaven right now? It's him. His Facebook page is completely flooded with incredible messages on how he touched the lives of others. Completely flooded. And honestly, I can't speak for those closer to him, but that has to ease the sting a little bit. This man lived such a good life, and even though there will be pain of missing him, he was who we all ought to be like.

It's really made me think about what I would leave behind if I didn't make it to tomorrow. Would there be a hint of joy in the hearts of those around me? Would there be wonder as to who I really was? I hope to continue my journey to whoever the Lord wants me to become.

For those of you who are faithful prayer warriors- pray for those touched by this situation. This man was a leader for a campus ministry at the college I went to. I know there are many college students who are hurting, rejoicing, questioning, and looking to God. I'm thankful for the influence of a life of someone who never knew me.

My thoughts are not complete. My answers are not firm, but God is God and I am not. And I know that God is faithful.

On Growing Up, Buying a Rump Roast, and Making Soup

Let's talk about something for a little bit. I don't think anyone, ever, in the whole entire world, ever feels like they are grown up and fully competent enough to face the world 100%, or even 75% of the time. And that's okay. I've learned that that's a-okay. And it's even more a-okay to make and eat a whole bunch of soup when you need a pick-me-up.

~~~

I like to think that my parents prepared me pretty well for adulthood. I wasn't scared to death when it came to transferring medical records, getting licensed in a new state, changing my name on a million documents, patiently listening to customer service from the phone company, collecting documents for taxes and personal records, etc. etc. Those things were a breeze. As an elementary student, my mom had a summer program for my siblings and me to complete each year. We had a chart to fill out- ten times exercising, ten sessions of reading or writing, and ten lifeskills. Those lifeskills could be anything like going to the post office, running errands for Mom, helping cook or bake, doing the laundry, or the like. Once our chart was completed, we got a prize. I don't even remember what the prizes were...their excitement wore off. But wow, good work, Mom, because learning to do tasks independently has paid off so well years later. Seriously, you're awesome.

Another thing my mother taught me? You're gonna mess up. You're gonna be embarrassed at times. You're not gonna know everything- and for goodness sakes, it's 'going to,' not 'gonna!' (Sorry Mom, I try!) It's okay to ask questions and it's okay to try and fail. You'll get it right, or at least closer to right next time. So don't be timid and go for it.

And my dad? He taught me a lot too. He taught me to take things seriously, but never too seriously. He let me come along and help put together booklets for school and sports when he had to make them. He let me help take inventory and sort jerseys in his coaches closet. He taught me how to laminate, photocopy, scrape paint off an old garage, paint the walls on the inside, pound nails without hitting my hands, check various fluid levels in my car, and make a garage look really, really nice.

My parents did a good job of preparing me for the real world. I normally float around feeling pretty confident about my abilities to get things done.

And all that's fine and dandy...until I want roast beef. I'm pretty handy around the kitchen, normally. I know the basics and can make some pretty decent casserole. I even know how to cut cold butter into flour, zest and juice, and crack an egg with one hand! Winner. But I'm still running into roadblocks- things that should be really simple, that are kind of intimidating simply because I have never done them. (I just learned how to cut a green pepper this summer...)

You guys, this is actually a little embarrassing. Don't laugh at me, please! I love my Mom's roast beef. I think she does it better than anyone else. I've been craving it every now and then, but give up because I don't know what a "roast beef" is. You can't just walk into the grocery store and say, "Excuse me, where's the roast beef?" They'd just point you to the meat counter, where you ask the same question and the meat guy looks at you like, "Uh...what kind do you want?" Yeah, "I don't know. The kind my mom makes??" He has no idea who my mom is, or what kind of roast she makes, or why she sent her strange daughter to the meat counter. (Yeah, I'm small enough to look like I'm still shopping for my mother, and not myself). So...I haven't asked. I forget about my roast beef and move on. I don't really care enough anyways to ask and get embarrassed.

But yesterday, I got brave. I decided to finally humble myself and walk towards the meat counter. I went and got that delicious rump roast and now it's sitting in my crockpot, nestled between carrots and potatoes, patiently awaiting me to get home from work and eat it heartily. Well, probably not really,  because first, rump roasts don't have thoughts, and second, if they did, they probably wouldn't want me to eat them, thus ending their existence. But back to the story- it really wasn't that hard. At all. There's only two types to pick from. I could have been eating roast beef all along.

But now that I'm done feeling silly and have decided to humble myself and ask next time, let's move on and talk about soup. When you feel silly about not knowing how to do something so simple and want something tasty to console your spirits, you follow your Mom's lead and make her two best soup recipes. Banana bread too. Why? Because everyone needs two soups and some sweet bread for supper. Why else? Because chopping and browning and mixing and simmering is good for the soul. Yep, that'll make up for your irrational roast beef fear.

Happy growing up, and happy soup making.
-Hannah

I Love Rain

Today, it rained. A lot.

When I was younger, I loved to run up to our attic when it was raining. We lived in a century-old home- one with an attic big enough to double as an added playroom. The other wonderful thing about this attic was it's tin roof. When the rain fell, it sounded magical, falling sporadically against the roof. I don't know why I was so enthralled with that sound, but it was a sound that I loved, and continues to be a sound that makes me swell with excitement. It's a sound that I loved to hear on our cabin roof at summer camp each year, but now is a sound that I rarely experience. Instead, I listen to the sound of it hitting the windows, and imagine the sounds of the tin roof.

Rain can be many things- it can be exciting, and it can be relaxing. It can be annoying (when you have to be outside), but refreshing too. I don't mind a drizzly, gray day every now and then. I don't mind standing at the window watching. I definitely don't mind cozying up on the couch in a blanket, doing something relaxing while listening to the rain fall.

Rain brings back memories, memories as a child, of standing at our window, watching it carve miniature creeks into our gravel driveway. My dad always had to shovel the gravel off the road and back into our driveway. There are memories of standing in the lounge at camp, watching it pour and create puddles the size of swimming pools. There are memories of Washington D.C.- getting caught in a crazy downpour and running back to find our car.

I don't know what it is about rain, but the power of it has always captivated me. I love seeing what it does. I love hearing it's sound. I love smelling it's smell. I love looking at the puddles it leaves behind. I, just simply, love rain.

We have a chance of more rain tonight. I sure hope that it comes true!
**morning update- guess it was snow! white all over!!

I Love Weekends

I love Fridays. I love how fast the work days go, knowing that they are last one of the week. I love the opportunities they bring to do something fun and relaxing. Last night, Keagan and I went to A8, a Chinese restaurant in Orange City. As we sat there, we had one of those moments- a moment where you feel like everything is just...right. We ordered  Egg Foo Yung and Moo Shoo off the menu (just to finally figure out what each one was). We were sitting, enjoying our meal, when we noticed that the funky, instrumental song that was playing, was "I Believe I can Fly." Seriously wonderful. The chain of songs to follow did not disappoint. We sat, enjoying our meals, the company, and the hilarious mix of songs that should not have been instrumental dinner music, but were incredible just the same. We finished the night off with a movie and...jello. Perfect.

I love Saturdays. I really, really, love Saturdays at home with no solid plan or agenda. Some people hate cleaning, some people hate organizing, and some people hate meal planning. For me, that's what I fill my Saturdays with, and that's what I thrive off of. I feel accomplished when I tidy up the house. I feel creative when I think of new and more appealing ways to store and organize items in our house. I get excited thinking about what kind of food I get to put on our table for the next week.I love doing it all leisurely, with breaks, and getting to the end of the day having everything ready for the next week. I love Saturdays.

Today we:
Enjoyed our usual mac n' cheese lunch (we keep things easy for meals on the weekends). Cleaned the bathroom top to bottom.  Dusted everything in the living room that needed it. Pulled the loveseat cover off and vacuumed up the gross crum collection. Got all of the laundry washed and folded. Did the dishes and disinfected the counters. Planned meals for the week and made a grocery list for shopping tomorrow. Paid off a big chunk of a school-loan! yay! Wandered outside to get the mail, take a silly picture, pet the cat, and empty the collected compost. Put clutter back where it belongs. Experimented with a few camera settings and brainstormed the picture book of our home I will be making. Started my recipe-organizing project.

We also enjoyed a little bit of rain.

Drone Strikes, Thirstiness, and Sassy Comments

I just heard someone ask, "What's going on in the world today?" I figured I'd hear replies on, oh, I don't know, uproar about drone strikes, the sequester, something of that sort. But no. I heard, "Snooki lost 42 pounds! Oh my gawsh!" Yikes. I must admit, I'm not always 100% up to date on what's going on that's really important for our world, but when celebrity news stories take the place of something big like, I don't know...drone strikes? Hmm. Maybe they've got it right though, the more I learn about government from my political-science-graduate husband, the more it scares me. Ignorance is bliss, until a drone strikes you down.

Anyways, I'm sitting here thinking about how weird bodies are. My throat was so swollen and sore Thursday-Sunday that I could only drink the amount of water that I could force down. I normally get my 64 oz. every day (it's a bit of a priority for me), so I was really feeling thirsty due to not getting the norm. Somehow, i'm still recovering from it too. I've been guzzling all day long, all week long and still feel thirsty. Come on, body, catch up with yourself! I'm actually afraid I'm going to turn into a fish soon. That can happen, right?

Someone wise (and by that, I mean myself) once told me that blogging is about sharing what you like, documenting what you're doing, and spewing off on writing tirades whenever you feel like letting the words out. Sorry that wise person spoke, because those of you who come here looking for something interesting, sometimes get random, unorganized posts like this one. I'm always amazed by how people can take a little 5 second incident, and turn it into an entire, inspiring blog post full of life lessons. I'm not good at that, usually. With me, you just get the random paragraphs. I'm so sorry. But hey, if I don't say this enough already, this blog isn't really meant to win your admiration and approval. It's just an outlet for me, and if it happens to entertain you, win, win!

Let's get on with this though. I'll settle down with the sassy comments and try to give you something encouraging.

The latest thing I've been working on is becoming less structured, less withdrawn, and more focused on other people. Somewhere, somehow, I settled into this little rut- which is good sometimes, but also limits me. That rut is a rut of comfortablility. I really, really, like structure. Don't get me wrong, I like variety too, but only for a time. I like everything to be scheduled. I like everything to have a place. I like everything to be in it's place for the most part. I like planning out exactly what I am going to be doing during the day and I drive my husband crazy on Saturdays by asking, "So, are we going out tonight, or are we going to eat supper here?" And honestly, it's only 10:30 AM, so why am I wanting to know so bad what tonight's plan is?

I like taking myself out of the public eye and out of the way of criticism. That's where being withdrawn comes in. It's so much easier to just to quietly mind my own business, than avoid an awkward encounter by reaching out to a coworker and trying to be friendly. It's so much easier to keep this blog private, than have others reading and making opinions about me (but I released it to the public! hey, making strides!). It's much easier to stay home in my house and do whatever I want to do, then go out and try to make new friends.

Somewhere in the mix, I have become so structured, so withdrawn, and so...just...not fun. Where'd that old Hannah go? I'm not real sure, because she only pokes her head out every now and then. So, I'm working on that. I'm working on the complexities of that. I'm still working on fighting insecurities, as I've talked about in the past, and I think that ties right in with this process too.

But anywho, here's one way this week that I broke out of my structure and didn't regret it. Tuesday morning, I had work off and was planning on staying home, paying off a few bills, adjusting an order online, doing laundry, doing the dishes, and cleaning the bathroom. Oh, and maybe vacuuming and sorting recipes into a binder. When my husband woke up and asked me if I wanted to go with him to help him work at his brother's house, my first response was, "No way, why would I do that?" But as I laid there and thought about it, I said, "Why not?" I popped out of bed, threw on some work clothes, and said, "I'm coming!!" We spent the morning, just the two of us, ripping lathe out of a room in the house. We didn't talk a lot, we didn't accomplish anything spectacular, but we got to spend time together, doing something that he liked doing. And me? I loved it. I loved that instead of accomplishing things on my to-do list, I was spending quality time with someone I really care about. I loved that it didn't stress me out, and those things got done anyways...just later than I had "scheduled." I loved that it made my husband happy that I did something I didn't have to do, but wanted to anyways.

So there, that's your challenge. What's holding you back? Is there something you can do to bring yourself out of your shell and world of structure a little more? My suggestion is to give it a try. It's not always easy, but you'll thank yourself.

You can all get back to your celebrity news stories now. :)
-Hannah

6 Months

Tonight, I'm blogging by lamplight while sitting on the bench at the end of our bed. It's my first night in this house alone. Keagan is away visiting some friends. It's strange- peaceful and quiet, but something just doesn't seem right. The humidifier humming in the background isn't quite as nice as my husband's voice, but it'll do...for tonight.

~~~

Before I was married (or even engaged, for that matter), a group of us got into a conversation about sleeping habits. When I mentioned I always, always, have to have my arms wrapped around a blanket or pillow of some sort, they laughed and told me I was going to be really great at sleep-cuddling with my spouse someday.

They were wrong.

Turns out whatever I choose to wrap in my arms has to be able to be molded, squished, squashed, bent, twisted, turned, and fit into exactly what form I want it to be in. I'm not so great at sleep-cuddling. It's probably lucky for him, too. Space is nice. Sleep is nice. Cuddling can happen another time.

Luckily, the molding, squishing, squashing, etc. has not transferred into other areas of our marriage, yet.

~~~

Friday marked our six-month anniversary of getting married. I think it's kind of funny how newlyweds tend to celebrate the six-month mark like it's some sort of huge accomplishment. It's supposed to have some sort of big significance, I guess. But honestly? Six months flew by. Maybe our rose-colored glasses haven't faded yet, but these six months have been so natural, so smooth, so...right.

I am amazed at how normal and natural it seems. I can't even begin to tell you how lucky I feel to come home from work to my best-friend- someone I can talk with, laugh with, and be incredibly goofy with. I've never had someone so interested in me before- who I am, what I do, what I want to do, all of it. It is beyond comforting to lie down next to someone, to wake up, to go to work, and to anxiously await spending the evening together. I feel blessed beyond belief.

Somehow, it's felt so easy to include another life with mine. It's wonderful to have someone to cook next to, eat with, sit on the couch with, walk with, run with, make faces with, and simply just be in the same room with. He is the easiest person in the world to get along with (at least for me), and I feel like I've had the simplest 6 months of my life.

~~~

We were both just...ready...to start our lives together. After the years of dating long-distance, it is so much more natural and easy to be living under the same roof and getting to experience each others' lives face-to-face.

Don't get me wrong, these six months haven't been perfect. They have been good, but not perfect. It's really easy (at least for me) to look at something you're on the outside of, and see it as perfect, or highly desirable. I hope my 'marriage-bliss talk' doesn't make you feel like we have some sort of strange thing that you'll never get a chance to grasp onto or experience. We certainly aren't perfect, but we work well together. Our marriage is the best that it can be for us and for where we're at. This just feels like it is simply how it is supposed to be.

~~~

Oddly enough, we celebrated our 6-month anniversary in sickness and in health. I was the sick one, Keagan was the healthy one. We were excited to spend Friday night eating out and watching movies before heading our separate ways on Saturday, but my body said otherwise. Instead, I slept for a few hours after work, as Keagan patiently awaited me waking up to half-watch a few episodes of our favorite shows before I fell back asleep again.Turns out a simple sore throat can really throw a girl to the ground for a few days.

Maybe that's okay, though. Maybe six months doesn't have to be a big, significant, celebration. Every day is a sort of celebration in itself- of friendship, companionship, and feeling like we've settled into something wonderful. That's what six-months have been so far. Nothing earth-shattering, nothing with deep-meaning or full of knowledge and experience. Just...right. Pleasant, enjoyable, and right.

The freezing rain/snow mix is pelting my window rhythmically. I guess that's my signal to drift off to sleep...