I am also determined to get a job. Soon. I think I may go apply at Seagull Book and Tape, Deseret Book, Michael's, Robert's Craft, or... um... something along those lines. I'd really like to work at Soho in the University Mall so that I may be provided with discounts and enjoy all the pretty sparklies, but I don't see that one happening as I was told that they need someone who can work any day of the week at any time and that is certainly not something that I can provide them with at this time. But we shall see. I could really use some extra cash right about now, though. A steady income is a good thing to have and getting paid once a month just almost isn't cutting it.
I thank my dear friend for telling me the following. She is a wise person.
"Dreaming is good," she says. "Even the illogical and impossible dreams." (Reminds me of that song by Ryan Shupe and the Rubberband entitled "Dream Big.") "Sometimes chasing a dream is like following a very small ant for miles and miles. You become so obsessed with following the ant that you don't notice the millions of more wonderful creatures and surrondings around you. If we could give up following that creature the possibilites and energy that would be available to us would astound us. Dreaming in itself is good, but sometimes we have to let go of the dream to find the place that the dream is leading us."
"Hmm," I think to myself. "I'm not so sure about the ant part (I tend to squish ants), but maybe a butterfly. Yes. I like the idea of my dreams being butterflies. But I am far too intent on some of these butterflies that I can't see what I'm missing. Maybe while I chase my butterfly I'll miss the kitten playing by my feet. I'd hate to miss that. "
"So, self," I say, "now is the time to stash your dreams away back in the filing cabinet and consentrate on the big picture and enjoying the journey."
"Right," Self says. "How do I do that?"
"I don't know," I respond. And then I sigh. "I suppose it involves avoiding Dingbat and That Boy, except when necessary, of course. And.."
"And?" Self questions.
"...And being patient."
"Seems as if every conclusion results in being patient," Self remarks with quiet resignation. I think she is right, but I don't say anything else because there is nothing else to say. Self sighs again and creeps quietly back into her little corner in the back of my mind, not wishing to be disturbed anymore. I am left saddened because I don't want to lose Dingbat or That Boy. I don't want to lose that friendship which I hold so dear.
