Typical Sunday

Captains Log Stardate 8*13*17

So I went to Church today and the pastor said some shit that I’ve heard before but struck a chord louder and more deafening than usual. He said “Our goal in life should be how we live it not where we end up.”

Tina, you go to Church? Yes, I attend church. If anyone’s ass needs saving, it’s mine. I may not subscribe to the same religious upbringing that was not so much a suggestion growing up but was more just the way things were. I remember telling my Catholic Grandmother that I was exploring other religions; the paramedics were dispatched shortly after. No, they weren’t but she also didn’t speak to me for nearly a month and dismissed my curiosity the same way she dismissed me when I went vegetarian or had any other ideals that did not fit the schemata she already had set in place. I don’t blame her. She’s old; old as fuck and unwilling to see things differently. Imagine if I had told her I was a lesbian or I was joining Greenpeace. I still have love for her even though she fed me beans made with lard when I was vegan. Change and acceptance is tough ya’ll – I struggle on the daily. Maybe that’s why I feel better after having lowered my ass into a seat on Sunday mornings. I surrender to something that I don’t understand, yet I always feel better for having done so. I accept that I’m a shitty person that does fucked up shit and while God doesn’t come down to play a game of Battleship with me or grab a Gelato together to make the icky feelings go away, I feel like I get what I need in that big room full of strangers I have no intention of EVER meeting or talking to.

Making my goal in life how I live it and not where I end up; sounds legit - easier said than done though. I sat in that giant classroom (that’s what it feels like to me) this morning and I thought to myself “I got this.” That’s my famous line. I’ve never met a situation that I didn’t come at sideways saying “I got this shit” and invariably always fucked up. ALWAYS. So I’m thinking about how in theory, that sounds easy and I should be able to live that lifestyle. I could tweak a couple of things here and there and BOOM I’m living an honorable life that is on the up-and -up. Then I remember who I am. Wah-wah-wah! Now, I’m not saying I’m completely incapable of change; I’m just saying it’s a little like bamboo torture for me. Putting all of my faith in the “hope” basket seems kind of foolhardy or maybe I should strike that and reverse it? Hope in the faith basket? Growing up aren’t we taught that we need to make our own way, forge our destinies? Aren’t we taught that we need to have a major in college as well as a minor – a plan B in case some shit falls apart in your lap? Maybe your degree in American Literature or Classic French Art gets you nowhere and you need to fall back on that Business degree. Isn’t that about where you end up?? I signed up for none of that shit. I was a clever girl and signed up Applied Behavioral Sciences. I can’t afford therapy and I don’t’ need to tell anyone my secrets; I’ll only have to bury their body later. I hate manual labor. I’ll just treat myself. Want it done correctly? Do it yourself.  I’m also inherently lazy, so here we sit – me, untreated and stark raving mad and you my, captives. I stopped saying “hostages” a while ago because it sounds so hostile. “Captives” sounds like it still has potential to have the word “audience” after it.

The dichotomy of what we are taught growing up so starkly contrasting what I was hearing in that massive classroom this morning hit me hard. I wanted to exit stage left, get myself my coffee from my local chain establishment, destroy all the patrons in my head (I did) and then plan out the rest of my life moment by moment and chastise myself for not meeting my moment by moment itinerary. It’s not enough that I do this already in bouts of periodic depression; I need to do this on a Microsoft Calendar and sync it with my iPhone and all other mobile devices to make sure that I don’t miss a step. I walked into Church this morning feeling moderately hard on myself and now I think I just need to step up my game a little; you know, stay ahead of things. And that my friends, is just how quickly my shit can get derailed. I have just taken a sermon intended to keep me safely in God’s loving grace and turned it into how I am fucking it all up and how to ensure I stay a step ahead of the Big Man. Apparently I am once again saying “I got this shit.”

I may never really know what living a life not concerned with the end destination looks like. I am a shallow and materially driven woman.  I have a good heart too, but at the end of the day, my creature comforts win. I am human, fallible and learning to accept those things. That doesn’t mean that there isn’t room for growth, it just means that for now if you touch my Quaker Carmel Cakes without asking or adjust the thermostat, I may not have room for you in my life. If you are in direct opposition with the plans I am creating presently for myself – feel free to see yourself to the door because I am a nice person and gosh darn it, people like me. Just kidding; I’m an asshole; don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.