Life

Life continues to be crazy. And because of this, I do not get to connect with you, internet world, as much as I would like to. But I wanted to take a minute to give you a quick glimpse into what life is like right now and why I'm so in love with my job.

Here's a little story of how everything good is also hard and how an abundance of riches is always right in front of us if we think to ask for them:

I was having one of those moments last night. I was home by myself and I was exhausted and felt like I was completely and utterly alone. And I just kept thinking over and over how badly I needed a little piece of encouragement, anything to tell me why I'm doing what I'm doing. Anything that would say that what I do and who I am matters.

Like everything in life that is good, my job is also hard. I want to be purposeful. All the time. I want to be able to see what I'm doing and why I'm doing it. That's why I moved away from a home and people I love. That's why I put my college degree to work cleaning toilets.

And it feels like I've been waiting. Just waiting for summer, when everything here makes sense. When we do what we're made to do. I plan, I set goals, I get excited, I expect big things.

And then summer comes, and I feel pretty sure I'm failing at every goal I've set. My staff seems miserable and stressed. I barely know my Work Crew girls. My Summer Staff girls may or may not hate being in the Laundry. And it feels like there's nobody here to help shoulder the burden.

I'm exhausted and I feel invisible.

So last night, I prayed for encouragement. I prayed to know that there was some purpose to me doing all of this.

And then today I got to drive a golf cart in a 4th of July parade featuring every single camper (all special needs kids this week). And I got to watch them smile and cheer and chant and be excited to be in this place. I got high fives and smiles and hugs.

I spent a whole lot of time laughing because my co-workers are really funny. I got a pretty kick-ass Columbia pull-over from the Assignment Team because people do actually see that I'm here.

I remembered that big things happen here almost every moment. Kids get to be kids. They get to play and laugh. And it turns out it doesn't really matter if I'm awesome at my job as long as that keeps happening. If one kid gets to come here and know for sure that someone loves them, that's enough.

Ask and you shall recieve.

Coming Up with Titles is the Hardest Part of Blogging

Remember when I used to be funny on my blog? You know, when I spent all my time writing about Twilight, nannying, and being rejected in my search for a job (and good coffee)?

Yeah, that was great.

Sorry my blog's been kind of downer lately. It's not cold anymore and I think that will vastly improve my ability to be snarky. However, it is summer and that means I'm really busy at work so we'll see.

To perk this place up a little, here's a small child repeating the daily affirmation I wrote up for myself a few years ago. It seems to really be catching on.

I Love to Love (Bachelorette, Ep. 3)

This title is an homage to a quote made by Hunter that was so awesome in its cheesiness that my friend Mark left a voicemail on my work phone repeating it. I love my coworkers (and the geniuses behind the Bachelorette.)

Post on...

Dear Ali,

Again, really? I'm more and more affirmed every week in my distaste for you. I think it has to do with the fact that you giggle when absolutely nothing is funny and drink Coors Light. (The producers can put tape over the can all they want, I know what you're drinking.)

Now, I understand that they force you to keep the weatherman and hopefully Rated-R as well, but still. Any self-respecting woman would send the lot of them home and move immediately back to Cape Cod with Chris L. He says wicked and loves his mom (but not too much).

I guess that wouldn't provide that much of a show, but if you're in it for the drama then let's kick it up. If I'm going to watch people be this big of tools, I at least want to see a throat punch thrown in there somewhere.

Speaking of throat punches, that's what I want to do to you for getting to go on a round-the-globe trip with these idiots. Try to keep the ones around that are going to make that fun.

Stay classy San Francisco (no chance of that),

Kate

Dear Hunter,

No way you were getting a rose. Sorry.

Maybe next time, leave the ukulele at home.

At least you didn't cry,

Kate

Dear Frank,

You're getting boarderline creepy. I mean, it's Week 3 and you're already obsessing over the fact that she's dating other guys. I would ask you to reread your rulebook at this point. I think you might have missed some stuff.

Also, stop smiling so much. It's got a bit of a manic edge to it.

Hope you're not missing your parents' basement too much,

Kate

Dear Rated-R,

I can't help but laugh everytime I see you crutch anywhere. Especially on a group date including 15 flights of stairs and sand. I'm sorry about that.

Again, if you wanted to start punching some people, that would be fine. (I would go for Craig the Lawyer, he looks ready for a fight.)

I don't like you,

Kate

Dear Weatherman,

Try not to cry when you kiss women. It's not that attractive.

I have to say, I'm glad you're still around. Mainly because I know that the amount of time you stay on the show exponentially increases the level of meltdown you have in the limo on your way out.

Looking forward to it,

Kate

Dear Jesse from Missouri,

Denim on denim? Seriously? I told you not to embarrass us.

Come on,

Kate

Dear Chris L.,

You're still not Ed, but I wouldn't say no if you asked me out. You can just leave me a message here.

Talk to you soon,

Kate

Dear Producers,

More booze! More mansion! More creepy man-shrine time! You know what we want.

Thank you,

Kate