Awake

So I had a break for awhile from my blog. But I think I should start writing again. And there are lots of other things I should start doing too.

Coming back to Provo from Christmas break was like waking up from a dream. The night I got back, I lay on my bed wondering if I had even left Utah. Home is a completely different world and I have to adjust myself into someone else when I go there. I have to be happy there.

I am certainly not a brave person. Sometimes I come across brave people, people who actually look and feel real and who aren't afraid of who they are and of letting someone else know them. And I admire them and want to be like them. But I distance myself from them. Because I'm not that good. I wish I had that special gift with words that some people have. That I could say something, and the words would be perfect. Maybe that's why I hate writing papers and talks and lessons so much. My words are much too incompetent.

I was reading the blog of someone I know and they had written a Christmas list of what they wanted. Many of the things on that list are what I want too. But there was one thing on that list that I have and I'm extremely grateful for that. My job. It may sound silly, but because I have a job, I can wake up in the morning. I have something to occupy my time, something to take pride and joy in. School doesn't do that for me anymore. That's my own fault, I know. But I live for waking up and walking up to that wonderful library. I live for standing at that desk and helping patrons to check out a book, or to find a book. I live for working with some of the most amazing people I've ever met. I live for sitting at the computer in back with a full cart of books rolled up next to me. I live for handling those books, those beautiful bits of an author's soul. When I someday leave BYU and the library behind, my heart will weep to lose something I love so much. And a bit of my heart will stay here, too.

As I read over what I've just written, I realize again how incredibly incompetent a writer I am. My thoughts are so jumbled, so disorganized. I apologize for my lack of skill. And even after writing all this, I still haven't gotten to a point. But I don't think I have one anyway.