A Black Friday Victory

Wednesday, 3pm

The monster lurks under the surface, waiting for the email to arrive. He is weaker than last year but still strong enough to claw his way to the surface at times, to dig his talons into her mind, to squeeze her heart back toward the miserly cage he used to control. Friday is strategic--if he can reach the surface once more, if he can breathe fresh air for a few hours, he knows he can survive longer, perhaps even another year. Curse his fellow monsters who have created the chaos accompanying that day, for as she has grown closer to The Other One, she has slipped from his claws to the point where she is almost repulsed by the chaos. 

Still, he has one more card to play and he takes a gulp of air as she reads the email. One claw enters her mind: 50% off name-brand clothes. He grabs her heart in a familiar vise: just a 5 minute walk down the road. Filled with a hope he hasn't felt in months, the monster slips back under the surface.

Friday, 7am

Today. If he can only convince her to visit the store, he will be stronger, refreshed, ready to continue the battle with The Other One for control of her heart. First order of action: communicate with the lazy one, convince him to work harder today. No luck--the monster Lazy stirs halfheartedly but quickly gives up. "Habits," he moans as he rolls back to sleep. "The Other One is helping her develop habits."

There is hope still, the email remains in her inbox. His claw is still in her mind, though not very deep. He can feel his grip on her heart slipping as she reads The Other One's book, his claw loosening as her to-do list grows. He struggles toward the surface--must breathe, must get fresh air! A moment too late, he sees the lit fence, the life vibrating from it, and he is thrown backward.

Friday, 9am

The monster revives as she jogs through the neighborhood. He shakes his head, confused. This fence was new, there had never been one in that location previously. The light from the fence shines gently, illuminating the word Contentment written across it in blood. 

Out of breath, weary, the monster Greed retires. And the girl continues through Black Friday, sharing with her Savior joy in the quiet victory of the day. 

check engine. check.

A collection of thoughts from the past weekend:

Friday, 7:45pm: Why is my check engine light on?

Friday, 9pm: My small group teacher just assigned us homework. How old am I again?

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Saturday, 9:30am: Sweet, I had a decent 5k time for a cross-country race...just need to decrease my pace by 20-30 seconds to place in my next 5k.

Saturday, 10am: Wow, next year I want to win this 5k and get a free turkey.

Saturday, 10:15am: My father is brilliant, of course I should take my car to its original dealer to see if it's a warranty problem.

Saturday, 10:30am: So basically, either it's warranty problem that they'll fix for free or I pay $100 to know why the light is on...I'll take that bet.

Saturday, 11:30am: Good thing I brought stuff to do while waiting.

Saturday, 12:30pm: Insert Jeopardy theme music here.

Saturday, 12:45pm: Yay, it was a warranty issue!

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Sunday, 7am: Ouch. It appears I did actually roll my ankle during that 5k yesterday.

Sunday, 11am: I'm glad my car got fixed yesterday so I can still visit a friend in the city today...

Sunday, 2pm: Eastern Market Crepes are the best.

Sunday, 9:30pm: The Matrix makes so much more sense as an adult than as a 13 year old.

a story of math in modernity

I was never a math whiz. 

I passed math courses decently because I was motivated by a little red letter that appeared on homework and exams after the teacher saw them. I wanted that letter to be an A. (note bene: it's amazing how some kids are motivated by these letters. but let's not forget the kids who aren't.)

I didn't necessarily hate math, nor did I struggle with it. I simply never understood how higher math would apply to real life. The grocery store never says "Today we are selling x's for $20, and your total will be $82, so what is x?" And my bank would never say, "Hmm, we seem to have lost the number of deposits you made in March, but we have your February total and your April total, so can you figure out how much money you deposited?" (note bene: if your bank does ever says that to you, tell them $550,500, take the money, and leave!)

Granted, knowing math does help with physics, and I enjoyed elementary physics because there are the occasional physics problems in real life (ie--if it's snowing in October and I'm trying to turn left but that car is coming pretty fast, should I go or not go?).

Not until a few weeks ago was I grateful that my younger self was motivated by little red letters. While at work, I assigned myself the task of deciphering a complex incentive system to determine how much money we had given away through said incentives. 

During this process, I suddenly realized that I was doing algebra. 

Granted, in this real-life higher math, there were no x's or y's or even pi's. There were, however, unknown numbers and I was finding them quite successfully. So successfully, in fact, that I corrected numbers from the previous four years with the simple equation I had developed. 

So while I will never become a math whiz, I have a new appreciation for the language of numbers in everyday life. (note bene--I will confess that the use of an Excel spreadsheet assisted with this newfound enthusiasm) 

revamping is my life

As this blog nears 100 posts, I'm reevaluating yet again its purpose and meaning. Given that a blog is an inanimate thing, given life only through its "creator," it seems to me that the created should serve the creator...and not vice versa.

There are so many metaphors and theological discussions in the previous sentence that I will simply ignore and restart.

Recently, I have felt pressure from my blog. I have felt that I simply must post at regularly scheduled intervals. Why I often am more stressed about the expectations of inanimate things than about the expectations of living, breathing humans is something that befuddles and bemuses me.

Regardless, I am posting this post right now on this slightly-read, unliving internet space to tell the world that I am releasing myself from the shackles of posting daily or bi-daily or tri-daily. I'm only going to post if I have something to say. That may be once a week or five times a week.

Don't worry--I actually have several things I want to say that I haven't had the freedom to edit because I've been stressed about 'posting.' And there are several things I will have to say in the future.

For now, though, this is all I have to say:

Dear Blog, You. Do. Not. Control. Me. With love, Me.

related

You know you are related when someone says 'make a silly face' and you both make the same face.

Can't deny it, might as well embrace it.

I love that I look just like my mom.

in case you were wondering