I apologize for posting so late tonight. After working at the medical office today, I went to my third (fourth?) job, cleaning a church. I dusted pews, cleaned bathrooms, vacuumed carpets, and emptied garbage cans. Started that job at 5 p.m. and finished around 7:30 p.m.
Then, I went to a little celebration dinner with my daughter, in honor of her first week of college and first week of her new job. It was amazing to see how excited she got talking about the work she was doing, which today entailed cleaning out compost bins. "Some of them smelled like puke," she said, "and some smelled like alcohol because of the fermenting fruit. I didn't mind it." She is so proud of herself, and I am so proud of her. She really is embracing the college experience.
I just got home from dinner a little over an hour ago. I am finally in my pajamas and ready for some sleep. However, I wasn't going to let the day pass without checking in with the disciples of this blog. This week, for me, has been exhausting, emotionally and physically. I am kind of tired of my life tonight. Nothing seems simple right now. Just getting home and ready for the next day takes a few hours--job after job after job after computer work after lesson plan after . . . you get the idea. I really miss the days when life was a lot simpler. Too much to think about all the time.
August 31, 2019. 9:21 a.m.
A lecture on searching for truth from a mouse . . .
"Well, I mean, yes idealism, yes the dignity of pure research, yes the pursuit of truth in all its forms, but there comes a point I'm afraid where you begin to suspect that if there's any real truth, it's that the entire multidimensional infinity of the Universe is almost certainly being run by a bunch of maniacs. And it if comes to a choice between spending yet another ten million years finding that out, and on the other hand just taking the money and running, then I for one could do with the exercise," said Frankie [the mouse].
A fairly cynical view of how the universe really works and who's in charge. Of course, that's coming from a creature that I would rather see snapped in a trap. I'm not a big fan of rodents, as most of my loyal disciples know. They aren't cute, despite my affinity for Walt Disney World and Mickey Mouse. I think I was traumatized by the movies Willard and Ben when I was a child. (Terrible films about a guy who controls rodents with his mind and uses them to kill people.) Therefore, if I were a mouse, I suppose I would think that the universe is run by maniacs.
As you can tell, I wasn't able to finish my blog post last night. Exhaustion overtook me, and I had to stop writing. Which is probably a good thing, considering the direction my thoughts were headed near the end last night. I think I was one step away from composing a post-apocalyptic novel. So, I decided to take a break.
I actually thought about deleting everything that I wrote last night, but the writer in me (which says to NEVER throw out anything I write) stopped my finger as it went for the delete key. So, instead, you get this two-part post. Think of it as a mosaic of Saint Marty. The dark side and the light side.
This morning, I'm in a much better frame of mind. As soon as I stepped outside into the sunshine, I could feel my mood brightening. Yes, all the problems and worries that were weighing on me last night are still there, but seeing light in the trees, feeling it on my face, lifted me up a little bit. When winter comes, I may be in trouble. But today is full of possibility and hope.
I have taken to wearing my father's old hats. My sister has been going through his closet and found some really cool stuff. My current favorite is a fedora-type hat that probably dates back to the 1950s. I wear it everywhere I go. This morning, as we were leaving the house, my wife looked at me and said, "You remind me of Walter White from Breaking Bad in that hat."
"Don't tempt me," I said.
There are times when I've felt desperate enough to pull a Walter White. Of course, I know nothing about chemistry or crystal meth, and I live in an area that's plagued with that drug. There are Walter Whites all over the place. My point is that desperation can force a person into contemplating the unthinkable at times.
Yet, I have to hold on to the idea that things will get better without me becoming a drug dealer or crime boss. Guns and I aren't friends, and I'm not really big on the idea of going to jail. One of the big challenges of being a faithful Christian, for me, is trust. I have to constantly remind myself to trust that God is looking out for me and my family. In the middle of all my struggles, I sometimes lose sight of that.
Then something happens to remind me. Last weekend, it was a night of love, where friends came together and showered me with support. A lot of support. That was God, slapping me upside the head, saying, "I got this." This morning, after another little excursion through the dark night of the soul, it was standing in front of my house and soaking in the sun. That was God, too, reminding me that He's looking down on me, shining through me.
That is my wisdom for this last day of August. In the Walter White moments of life, when breaking bad almost seems like an option, the sun will rise again. Hope will come flitting back, like a hummingbird. Just hang in there. The Universe isn't being run by maniacs. Love is just around the corner.
Saint Marty isn't positive about many things, but he is positive about this.
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