in sickness . . .

Maybe it’s just me, but when I’m ill, I get terribly anxious about . . . well, just about anything.

It’s as if all the time I spend sitting doing nothing, for days on end (for when I get sick, I rarely leave my bed. I find I heal faster if I don’t over exert myself and just allow my body to recuperate) just gives my brain opportunity to feed my irrational – and rational -fears. This time, during my spout of illness, I’ve been plagued by a few different fears: 1) flying 2) being a boring person and 3) getting married.

  1. flying

God, why am I so scared of this? It’s not really that I’m afraid of flying itself, it’s just that I’ve never flown before and I’m deathly afraid that I’m going to hate it. I hate car trips, for one, and if a drive is more than 45 minutes, I rebel. I refuse to go on road trips unless I absolutely have to. Also, spending large amounts of money gives me anxiety, and I just plopped down a whopping 1480.00 for two round trip tickets to our destination of choice. And that, whoa, that was a major eye opener. I’m flying now whether I want to change my mind or not. I’m getting on that plane and I’m spending 42 hours total on it. What if I hate it? What if I’m miserable? What if I wasted 42 hours of my life on something that I might not even survive?!?!?! Okay, okay, calm down. It’s gonna be okay. Here’s to hoping the destination of my dreams is worth overcoming my fear.

2. being a boring person

This is a weird one. I’m not quite sure where to begin, exactly. All my life I’ve been surrounded by fascinating people. People who have interesting lives and stories, who are intelligent, witty, wealthy, and popular. That’s a funny thought, too, considering I am none of those things. These people have always accepted my offers to “hang out” graciously, and to anyone else, it would appear we have a good time. I’d even say myself that I had a good time. But when the favor is not returned, it completely negates the feeling of joy previously had. Does that make sense? It was a little wordy, I’ll admit. Here, let me clarify: If I ask you to hang out, I’d appreciate if you’d do the same to me. Friendship is a two sided coin, people. You don’t get heads up every time, no matter how lucky you are. You’re gonna get tails eventually, and you better keep your end of the bargain, otherwise I’ll stop offering to play.

The fact that this has happened to me since I was a child, every. single. time. makes me wonder if there’s something wrong with me. Why won’t anyone ask me to hang out? Am I mean? Crude? Are my jokes getting old? Or am I just plain ole . . . boring? God forbid! I live to make people laugh, and I’d like to think my dry, self-depreciating humor is funny to someone! It would kill me to know that people don’t find me . . . worthwhile. So yeah, that’s something I’ve been freaking out over lately.

3. getting married.

Okay. So, some of you may have read my other post and know I’m getting married this autumn. I’m very, very excited, don’t get me wrong. But I’m also absolutely terrified. I was going through my Spotify today, adding songs to our wedding dance playlist and suddenly, listening to all the beautiful love songs, I got so very nervous. Some thoughts that crossed my mind throughout the feverish haze of the last three days:

“I’m too young to get married! I’m wasting so much potential and freedom!”

“What if I get tired of him? What if he’s not who I thought he was? What if I’m not who he thought I was? What if we end up resenting each other forever?!”

“What if no one ever speaks to us again because all our other friends are still single and they won’t go out with us because we’re boring, old, married people?”

“What if I get cold feet? What if someone I loved from my past shows up and makes me regret everything?”

“What if 20 years down the road I meet my real true love and I can’t do anything about it?”

Now, if you read my other post, mentioned above, you’ll know I have a perfectly valid and reasonable argument to talk myself out of these nonsensical fears. I’ll be okay, I’m still going to walk down the isle, and I’m not going to regret anything. I am madly in love, and I always will be. But, still, when I am sick, or lonely, or tired, these thoughts creep into my mind and make me question things I normally wouldn’t think twice about. It’s perfectly normal to be nervous for one’s own wedding, at least that’s what I’m telling myself as I try to resurface from the waves of sickness . . .

Funny, as I write about these things, I realize . . . Do you know what all these “fears” have in common? They all have different names for the one fear they are all actually present in.

It’s the fear of the unknown.

I don’t know what flying is going to be like.

I don’t know what people think of me.

I don’t know what life being married will be like.

It’s all the unknown. We don’t know what tomorrow brings, but that doesn’t stop us from waking up. It doesn’t stop us from getting in our cars, on our bicycles, taking each step down the sidewalk . . . We can’t predict the future. So instead of obsessing over it, we must embrace it. That is what makes life special and exciting. We don’t know what will be thrown our way and we must face it – head on – and prove to ourselves, and everyone around us, that we are forces to be reckoned with.

We are human; strong, and brave, and defiant. We don’t let the unknown stop us from pursuing our dreams. Dream on, dreamers. You’ve got this.

Es ist was es ist,

c.w. north

a n g e l s

I think I met an angel today. The sweetest little old lady came up to me at my desk after I mentioned she looked so patriotic dressed in her red, white, and blue. She said “well that’s the point. Our motto is patriotism, preservation, and education.”  She then goes on to tell me about her committee, and how they are all descendants of those who were part of the american revolution. “That’s the only deciding factor on whether you can join or not,” she tells me.

This woman’s patriotism was inspiring. To me, being patriotic means loving your country no matter what. For someone like myself living in the United States, that is hard. I don’t know what the rest of the world really thinks of us, but I imagine that they see us going through some scary shit and want nothing to do with it. That’s why I cling to my German heritage so strongly. I don’t want to be American. I’m not American, I’m German, I was just born in America. Sorry, sweets. If you were born in America, guess what? You’re American. I did not like this.

At the end of the day, it comes down to the kind of person you are. There are shitty people who live in Europe, and there kind people who live in America. Where you are born does not define the kind of person you are. Each and every person should be judged according to their character and nothing more. I’m done being ashamed of where I’m from, because *cliche phrase drumroll please* it’s what’s inside that counts.

That little old lady taught me that just by giving me a 10 minute history lesson on George Washington and the American Revolution. Her passion is inspiring. I’m going to start talking about the things I love with more passion. There is no reason to be ashamed of who you are, where you come from, or what you believe. Remember that.

I hope today blesses you.

es ist was es ist,

c.w.

rain + empty hours

It’s raining today.

I’m currently at work and it is very slow. It’s always slow though, really. Except sometimes in the mornings on Tuesdays after I’ve had my weekend off. The one thing about Sundays and Mondays being my weekend is that when I come back to the office on Tuesdays, I have lots of work piled up and emails to answer and voicemails to return because everyone else already worked on Monday, catching up from their weekend. But the amount of work I have to “catch up” on is never more than can be completed in one day. Unfortunately, this means the rest of my week usually drags.

I do like my job. I worked in food service for 4 years and was super sick of that, and how early I had to get up or how late I’d get off. I perform in theatre as a hobby, and it was really hard to juggle that and the jobs I held. So one day I woke up and was like, “what am I doing? I’m not in school anymore, there is no reason I have to be doing this!” I promptly quit my job an found a new one. A real job. A desk job. *oh the glamour*

Things I like about my job:

  1. I don’t have to get up earlier than 7am or stay later than 6pm.
  2. The work isn’t hard. I can do it easily.
  3. It’s close to my home so the commute isn’t really…well, a commute. It’s only 5-10min, depending on the traffic.
  4. I get an hour lunch. That’s twice as long as my old job, and ten times as long as my job before that!

Things I don’t like about my job:

  1. I work with my ex-best friend (it’s a nightmare.)
  2. I don’t get paid enough to live *comfortably*.
  3. I sit at a desk all day, so butt fat is a real thing.
  4. The management is insane, gossipy, and all have their own personal agendas. Ew.
  5. The place I work is, well…elitist. The last thing I am is elitist. Not a good match.

Yeah, so at the end of the day, work is work. I wish I didn’t have to do it but we all have to. It’s not something you can escape. Except maybe if you’re born into a super dirty rich family and you have an allowance of like 100,000 dollars a month. But even then, someone had to earn that money, am I right?

What do I wish I was doing for a living? You know, I haven’t figured that out yet. I have too many hobbies and pastimes, but nothing that really strikes me to the core and whispers “yes, this is my calling.” I don’t think I have a calling other than to make people laugh and help them feel less alone. That’s what I’m here to do. If you need anything, anything at all, drop me a line and I promise to listen and love.

es ist was es ist,

c.w.