Chronicles of Ché

Sorry, folks…I just gotta.

Rant, that is.

I’ve noticed myself doing this thing lately…kinda surface talking..like everythings okay, but inside I’m going crazy.

I work for Starbucks…which sounded pretty good when I started, but I’m slowly going crazy.

Starbucks is run like fundemental christian churches…control, control, control.

I make $10.25 per hour, 30 hours a week…on which I have to support my 3 kids and me.

My ex-husband pays child support…but has reduced it as my son just turned 19. So now, I have to either insist my son pays room and board,  even though he doesn’t have a job (hard to get in this town) or kick him out.

I am sick of crappy wages…and sick of being told all the things I don’t get exactly right…cause, after all, Starbucks expects 100% conformity (yes, that’s in the manual).

I’m tired of being the parent who has to make all the decisions, make all the appointments, pay for things…and somehow try to have my own identity in the middle of it.

I think I’m lonely…but it’s hard to tell, really, cause I’m just so damn tired.

I’ve been trying to move forward..ya know…to get healed, to be whole.

But I suck at it.

I’m sick of trying to be better than I am.

Yet where I sit is so depressing, how can I stay here?

In the middle of all the crappiness….neat little presents appear. They are good…but is it enough to make me want to keep going? Maybe. Maybe not. You know what I actually feel when God and people give me cool stuff?    Guilty. Guilty that I don’t have a better attitude, that I’m not more thankful.

I’m going to Europe in June. Sounds great, right? It is great….I think. Yet, I feel no real excitement…though that may come later.  I feel empty. As much as I want to travel….I would rather have a life that I enjoy a little more. Maybe hobbies. And maybe a date now and again. I don’t know.

Oh, and have I mentioned the mice?

Yup, mice have moved into my house and it’s making me frustrated.

We have trapped 12 of them so far, and brought them to the other side of the lake.

And I still saw another running around the edges of the living room.

I’m so sick of this stuff.

I want to be thankful, and have a good attitude.

But today…..my attitude sucks.

I picked up a book last week, when I was in the city. It was one I’ve been intending to get a hold of for quite a few months….all because of the cover.

On it, is a woman, obviously a warrior, with tattoos all over her body. She looks intent, and dangerous. On the surface, this appeals to me because I wish I was dangerous. Too many years of feeling helpless…too many times of letting harm come to me without fighting back. Yet, I’ve learned to fight. I’ve learned to stand firm…to push back if need be. But dangerous?

Anyways, what grabbed me was that the woman reminded me of a dream I had about 13 years ago. In it, I was the warrior. I remember hunting, searching for books that had words in them that I needed…but finding some too late. The words would disappear before I could read them all. I searched and searched….and as I read the words, new tattoos would appear on my person. Like a living story.

This dream has sat with me for a long time.

I had a purpose in that dream…something that I felt called to do.

I like that feeling of purpose..of being a part of something bigger than me. I like feeling like I accomplished something. I liked feeling like there was a place for me, something that I HAD to do, that I was created to do.

I wonder if I’ll ever feel like that in this reality?