loaded

I just ain't had time to blog lately. Shoot, I can barely keep up with reading the blogs I like to read, let alone trying to figure out what I want to blog about. My life is so full right now. I'm working. I'm keeping my house clean. I'm going to church. I'm trying to connect with the things that have made me happy in the past, like spending more time with my friends. My beloved and I need time together. And I'm trying to get enough sleep. So by the time I get to picking up my laptop, it's already late and at most, all I can do is read a few blogs before crashing into sleep. Shoot, I can barely keep up with the news, which is something, 'cause I'd been kind of a news junkie. There ain't enough hours in the day for me to be blogging regularly, though.

I don't mind.

I really don't mind, 'cause I'm glad my life is full. The things I've wanted most are mine - God is continually blessing me. I got love, and a place to call home, and a means with which to make money and pay off these student loans. I got family and friends and I'm making new friends at work and at church. This is what I wanted.

All those years I spent wandering in my twenties, that's the stuff I was searching for. I would lay alone in my bed at night wondering about a man. I was going out as often as I could, looking for community and a place to be myself. I found it, but I was distracted by being sick and tired of being broke and having bills and hating my jobs and knowing I could do more. I was pulling all nighters trying to get a degree. Shutting down my social life trying to get my credentials straight. Worrying about my car breaking down. Scrimping and saving to get myself some financial security. Worrying about when or if it would all come together. Praying for patience. Praying for sustenance, and breakthroughs, and reprieves. Praying for more patience. And one day, after regular spells of unemployment, renting several U-Haul trucks, dealing with jerks wooing me and then deciding not to call me anymore, living in walk-up apartment after walk-up apartment with no air conditioning and raggedy heat, battling back and forth over whether or not I wanted to try a new church, again...

I looked up and I was where I wanted to be. Not long out of the day's church heels. Drinking sweet tea on my own porch. Clean, reliable car in the garage. Dishwasher running. Trees out front giving just enough sun and shade. Just enjoying myself. I'm not lonely. I'm not worried. I'm just blessed. Savings in the bank. Food in the fridge. Central air. Oh, I'm working for it. And praying for it. Praying that God keeps me afloat, and that I don't get the big head - thinking I'm entitled to this much contentment, forgetting how far I've come and how much worse it could be. This Universe don't owe me nothing. I'm thankful. And what's more, I'm not in this alone anymore. I don't have to do everything by myself no more. I'm not carrying my groceries into the house all by myself no more.

It's still a humble life. I could have done better in school, taken a more ambitious career path, and made more money sooner. Or I could have coupled for money instead of love, and dealt with one of those obnoxious types of brothers who just wanted an accessory wife/co-wage-earner he could brag about, instead of a friend and lover who makes me soar and inspires me to be better and likes me the way I am all at the same time. I could have done a lot of things differently. But this is what I wanted. And I feel so wealthy and rich... I mean really wealthy and rich.

I want to travel, and be a mother. I want to go into business for myself. I want to finally get that doggone book published. Learn new things. Make myself useful to someone besides myself and my own household. I feel like as blessed as I am, the world is open to me to grow and explore. It's such an encouraging feeling...