It looks like rain. I may run in it anyway, it was just that sort of lunch I had. Which is to say that the rest of the morning was lovely – I hit the snooze and dreamed of Viktor. I came into the lab and wrote part of what I dreamed. Then I read some required reading. I did a beta, went to lunch…
And wanted to kill a classmate. This is frowned upon at Seminary.
The words foul, loathesome, evil little cockroach echoed in my head. It wasn’t pretty. And even though I stood firm – in a tactful and respecful manner – in my own quite differing opinion on the subject at hand, I still felt like I kowtowed. And now I just feel dirty. Hence desire to run in the rain.
I feel like as time has gone on, our class has grown cliqueier and uglier. Maybe it’s just me. Maybe I just feel out of place – I’ll admit that the feeling has been growing for sometime. Maybe I just need to be out of school, and into something else (read: have job) But I can’t help but to think that if I allow myself to be satisfied with just that explaination for my restlessness and feelings of awkwardness with my own peers, that perhaps I let myself down in not searching out the deeper meaning.
It is …odd, and perhaps interesting, that I chose that word, restlessness. One of my professors preached on that just last week; divine restlessness. I’m trying to remember what he said, but it’s eluding me. Something about God reaching out, something about why God always reaches out. I need to go find the notes for that sermon (I asked for a copy, but he didn’t have a written version. He let me photo copy his notes, tho.) and see if I can get back to that place of epiphany.
My mother is gently trying to convince me that I should move back in when I graduate, and while that might fiscally be a decent idea, it would kill the healthier aspects of our relationship faster than you can say, “Ready, Set, Go!”
And I was told via email yesterday that I might have a job when I graduate, but it’s not definite. Which is both exciting and exactly status quo. So different from two days ago, when I knew good and well that I might have the job, but that it wasn’t definite.
Patience. I know. Most of the time, it’s not an issue, but when I’m tired, …it just gets harder. I, like Pomona, would rather be in my greenhouse. You know, if I had one.