It doesn’t matter that I just worked in one for the eight hours today.

I get to be the customer now instead of Barista!

I’m finding more and more that I feel most comfortable in a Starbucks. Its a really strange thing. I guess its the familiar music, sounds, smells and all that jazz. While its a tad bit sad, its also very good.

There are very few places I feel even slightly relaxed in.

I’ve been so on edge lately that I’m one wrong move away from falling to my death. I’ve tried everything I can do to stop it, but its just not working. I am, by nature (well, sort of) a compulsive worrier.

But I know my worrying is useless. I also know that God is in control and maybe the most important thing I can do, and the ultimate “remedy” is to just talk to Him and let Him know (even though he already does).

This is a hard thing for me to do. Mostly because I feel guilty for watching Desperate Housewives when I should have been reading my Bible. Or, I talk to a friend instead of praying. I mean, I know there’s a lot more time in my day available to talk to God.

I think I know what the solution is. I just hope that I can work my through my anxiety to get to a place where I can take my own advice.

If you talk to God on the regular, tell Him I’m on my way.

About EVERYTHING.

You know those people in your life that are completely carefree? Those ridiculously obnoxious ones who sleep perfectly soundly at night?

Its because I have their worries too. I’m convinced of it.

But its all ridiculous. My worrying has never once solved anything. In fact, I’d say it has made things worse.

So I end up worrying that I worry.

Ugh.

However, I have recently decided that this is my life. The life God gave me. And while I’ll always be a little high-strung (aka OCD) and while I’ll probably always be on my toes, I don’t want to worry as much. I want to live the best I can and make good decisions and do the right thing.

Shirley everything else will fall into place, right?

And yes, I DID just called you Shirley.

That I haven’t said before.

I’ve repeated myself so many times that even I’m starting to notice. (That’s when you know its bad, btw).

Recently (as in, like, yesterday) I thought I had completely dissatisified with life. “Meaningless, meaningless” and all that jazz. But, after further consideration (and some alone time this afternoon) I’ve decided that I’m not dissatisified.

I’m stagnant. I’m at a stop. I’m…complacent?

No, not me. Surely not.

I’ve decided that life is a lot easier when you’re good at being content. I’m good at it occasionally…but thats a lie.

When I see pictures of people in Africa, or hear someone got a great new job, or even watch shows about people doing exciting things (no, I’m not talking about LOST) I’m not satisified just watching. I want to be there. I HAVE to do it too.

Is that good, or is that bad?

Both.

I think its good that I’m constantly wanting to improve and to explore. Life is so amazing and the world is so big. Why should I be confined to my backyard? I”m the only one holding me back. BUT its also bad. Because, obviously, I will never be able to do it all.

Or even half.

I don’t know. I want to be content and “normal”. I just don’t have it in me. Life, and more importantly God, seems to throw “obstacles” in my way all the time that keep me from settling too long.

I’m just gonna see what happens.

Today I stood in a window for 8 hours and handed people coffee.

No one cared that I had a medal. No one cared that for the past few months I have gotten up at 6am to run. No one cared that I was exhausted and couldn’t be bothered to put more cream in their coffee.

But my co-workers cared. They bombarded me the second I got in the door.

Life is like that. We work so hard and accomplish beautiful things. But the world doesn’t care.

And that’s ok.

I plan on running more. It is a great feeling to run with thousands of people and to feel like you own the city for a few hours. Its great to be in the middle of a crowd of people that understand the craziness that you put yourself through every day.

For the past few months I have put myself through a lot every day. I’ve been a terrible friend and often a terrible person in general. Being insanely busy can bring out the worst in anyone. Unfortunately my friends don’t always see or care about any of this.

And I thought about all this as a ran. It was better than thinking about the smell from the outdoor toilets.

I know that I am doing the best I can. The economy has been hard on everyone and I have been no exception. But just like I could have pushed harder when I was running, I know that I can do more in my life.

Sometime crossing the finish line isn’t enough.

I’ll explain more later when my head quits pounding and my legs remember what their job is.

Especially since I”m well aware of the fact that I am the most indecisive person on the planet.

In fact, I’m expecting my crown and sash any day now…if I can just decide on a colour for it.

I know that life is not all that complicated. I’m at least rational enough to know that life goes on whether I take a job here, there or on the moon. Whether I stay or leave. Whether I eat the ice cream or the carrots.

But I also know that each decision affects a multitude of other things. Especially the ice cream vs. carrots.

I know exactly where I want to end up in life, but (un)fortuantely (on the fence about that one too) I’m not sure what steps I need to take to make that happen. Or at least to fully realize my goals.

A lot of it has to do with me not just trusting myself or my Maker.

The fact of the matter is that I will always be faced with crossroads. Personally I think its because i have so much trouble with them. I know in the end it will all work up and I’ll end up right where I need to be (and blogging about how wonderful it all is). But that doesn’t keep me from stressing out at an unhealthy level right now.

So send your positive thoughts my way.

Or even your negative ones.

See, I just can’t decide.

A lot.

Well, I love the way that Mr. Miller writes. I’ll have to sit down to coffee with him before I know if I’m actually in love.

Anyway, to the reason I love his writing.

I love the way Mr. Miller writes because he always, always, ALWAYS tells a story. He can be going on about something as mediocre as what he had for breakfast that morning, but it always seems so profound and important the way he puts it on a page.

If Donald Miller wrote a blog about eating Cheerios I would have to go out that very moment and buy myself some Cheerios. That’s how great he is.

I love a good story. I’m not talking Romeo and Juliet or anything spectacular and/or crazy.

I like the stories of every day life. That’s why I love to “people watch”. There’s something so awesome about discovering the day-to-day lives of people around you. Its refreshing after seeing movie after movie about space travel and explosions and whatnot.

Sometimes what a person had for breakfast is more interesting than that stuff anyway.

I think I would like to be a story teller like Mr. Miller. I’ve often thought about how cool it would be to just take a risk and travel across the country meeting people. Although, I doubt I’m as brave as he is.

I think I’ll start in my own town. Not much risk leaving my own front door.

Ok, back to work.

But I don’t really know HOW to love them.

Confusing? Yes.

But, allow me to explain.

I always have one person in my life that is my best friend. That person seems to change by a yearly basis. Some lasting longer than others.

Meanwhile, I have lots of people around me that I think are absoluletly wonderful and intriguing. I get so involved in getting to know them and becoming fascinated by their lives. And then they slip away.

And its generally my fault.

I’ve always said that if there’s one thing I’m good at, its forgetting people exist.

Its a gift and a curse.

I think that we are given people throughout our lives as the particular season allows. We can’t keep everyone forever. I think that we meet these people at these times to teach us things and help us grow. I can personally vouch for the accuracy of that theory.

But each time I get attached and don’t want to let go. Even though every ending brings a great new beginning and new people that I love just as much, if not more, than the previous group.

I know all of this seems confusing and a tad bit crazy. And hey, maybe that’s me in a nutshell.

I think I’m just coming to one of those endings…and I don’t want to let the cast of characters from this act go.

But hey, maybe they’ll appear after intermission.

If I ever get one that is.

And I’m really excited about it.

And I really want it to work out.

But I have no idea where to even start. This is the eternal problem. I have lots of good ideas…but don’t know how to commit to them.

Here’s hoping I resolve my commitment issues soon!

Upon re-entering my college town I wanted to run away, tail tucked between my legs. I had no choice but to stay and see what happened.

Events unfolded one day after the next. With job offers and apartment hunting and new friends (and a few old) flying from all directions. Classes began and moving into a strange place for the first time became the name of the game.

I always thought I was strong and independent…until these events were thrown at me by life. It turns out, life has a great arm.

The fact of the matter is though, I came out with a new sense of independence and strength. Instead of it coming from my ability to make all A’s in classes or my part-time student worker job, or even my graduation from college in 4 years…it came from my ability to turn a bad situation into the greatest life lesson I have ever learned.

I spent so many nights crying that it’d be impossible to count them. I complained like it was my job. I secluded myself at times because I was secretly jealous that everyone around me seemed so happy.

And I still do these things from time to time.

But when I look on the past 8 months I am amazed at what life gave me. I have met so many amazingly creative people. I have swam in rivers with friends I lost touch with in the past. I worked 3 jobs and took grad classes. I lived completely by myself for the first time. I tried new things. I took the LSAT and succeeded. I began a running regimen and showed the sport who’s boss. I am now going to Africa. 

It blows my mind.

I’m ready to leave my college town. Even though it is not a bad place, it will always be a reminder of a time that I have grown past. Its frightening to think of moving away and “cutting the cord” so to speak. But there are signs all around me that it is time nonetheless.

Its on to the next transitional time in my life.

I’ll always remember this year as the greatest year of my life. At first it was the most heart-wrenchingly awful one. But just like God made ugly ducklings into swans, he also made an ugly situation into a beautiful one.

Thanks for reading along as I lived this stuff. I’m sorry to those that I did not have time for as I worked so often. I apologize to anyone that missed me during this crazy time in my life. 

But it doesn’t go unnoticed. I am deeply appreciative of those who have stuck with me even at my worst moments.

Here’s to the next chapter.

I really have no choice in the matter.

I have tried to want to do other things. When I was an intern at Imagewest (a student-run ad/pr agency) I wanted to fit in and believe that I wanted to work at an agency. I also tried to pretend that I wanted to always live and breathe public relations.

I guess I never do a great job of completely fitting in.

Don’t get me wrong, I would work at an agency in a heartbeat (if the opportunity presented itself). And I love public relations. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have gotten up every day to sit through 3 hours of lectures about it. I wouldn’t have learned the ins and outs of it. I truly believe that communication is a powerful tool, and I’m glad I have had the opportunity to  learn how to use it. 

However, I am not a public relations specialist, despite what my portfolio says on the front of it. I can write a marketing plan if you need one. I can crank out a press release in my sleep. I can organize an event.

What I really am, is a helper. And yes, I know this is ridiculous since I’ve never helped anyone (except that homeless person I gave a 2-liter to outside of LaserQuest once). But I know that this is what I am. 

Call me crazy (if you haven’t already today).

I guess I’ll just never be “normal”. I have tried. I don’t know why I can never fit perfectly into the mold. But I just can’t. I can’t seem to identify with my peers around me who just want to get married and live in the same town the rest of their lives. I can’t identify with my classmates who will forever be content pushing paper at a large company. The fact of the matter is, I am Hayley. And God made me this way.

And its not easy. I’m from small town Kentucky. Most people dont get out. And if they do, they don’t get far. 

But for me, I know deep down that one day I will work for Oxfam. I would love to be a Media Specialist for the organization. I know that I will travel across the world to places most people have forgotten about (or never heard of in the first place) to hear the stories of the people who have been forgotten as well. I’d be content with that. 

Until then, I’ll keep following the mold. Its not so bad, after all. 

I just know that somewhere down the line I won’t be able to continue being “normal” anymore. In the words of one of my grad professors, it’ll be time to “live out loud”.