Somebody that I used to know

I’ve been longing for comfort reads lately, and had some vague memory in the back of my mind of a Christian novel I read back in high school. It’s this long (loooooong, like 11/22/63 long) story following two generations of a family over 30 years and I found it comforting, even then, to stick with the same people for 700 pages. Sometimes even if there’s a whole series about certain characters, the choppiness of switching from book to book is disrupting. None of that here.

The problem was that’s all I remembered about the book. It was long. It was about a family. There were two sisters. And…that’s it. It probably took me about a couple years of idly searching every couple months or so to stumble upon it.

Reading has been interesting, because I don’t remember any of the plot points specifically, but I’ll get these clairvoyant-like flashes of foreshadowing. A character goes in for a job interview and I’m reading along, la la la, then I see the name of the interviewer and BOOM: “she’s going to marry this man!”

I feel as if I know these characters and I can’t quite tell if it’s because I’ve known them before or if it was like this even 15 years ago. I think that was what was special about this book, why I read it twice back then and have come back to it. The characters felt like friends from the first time I picked it up.

On the other hand, it definitely won’t strike a chord with everyone. It’s pretty standard “you’ll have a hole inside until you find God” fare. Some of the Christian-ese makes me wince. This isn’t just Christian fiction, its Christian fiction from 1998. Completely contrary to the point of the whole book, I like to ignore the religion stuff and focus on the people.

I think I missed them. When you find a connection to people, even fictional ones, at age 15, they stay with you.

(Amazon affiliate link, FYI, just because that’s the best way to get a cover photo!)

Accomplishments

I used to sit at my desk at work and wish I could be home washing dishes. I kind of like washing dishes, and doing laundry, and making dinner. Plus I hated coming home to a messy kitchen. If I just had time during the day to clean! Instead I was filling out paperwork that would just have to be done again next year, if not sooner. I wish I could accomplish something, I thought. If you wash a dish, you can see what you did. You have a clean dish! All I have is piles of papers.

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I babysat my niece last week. Mostly while my sister and brother-in-law were at work, but they live an hour away so she’s also stayed overnight a couple times to save on driving.

That’s how I woke up Tuesday morning with four kids in my house. Or rather, I woke up three times with four kids in my house. The baby was up at 5:30, back down at 6. Paul woke up at 6:30 and crawled into my bed to roll around and use my hair as a blankie. (Thomas was already at work.) The girls – my niece and Margaret – got up at 7:30.

Everyone was fed, dressed, and in the car by 8:30 to go to school. Once there, all five of us trooped in to make sure Margaret’s coat was in her classroom, since she’d forgotten it at school the day before. Then we took Paul to preschool.

Afterwards, I fed the baby in the car, then went to the post office to meet Thomas and apply for Eleanor’s passport. Predictably, they couldn’t help us that day, so we had to go back the next.

Thomas went back to work and I quickly fed the baby before picking up Paul. Then we came home and I made lunch.

For the rest of the afternoon I did two loads of laundry, washed a sinkful of dishes, ran the dishwasher, made dinner, handed out snacks, changed diapers, picked up Margaret from school, made after-school snacks, packed up my niece’s stuff, drove her a half hour away to meet my brother-in-law halfway between our house and theirs, drove home, waved goodbye to Thomas as he went to Bible study, played with kids, changed more diapers, gave more snacks, put the baby to bed, waved goodbye to Thomas again as he pulled in the driveway and I pulled out on my way to Zumba, danced and sweated for an hour, came home, took a shower, sat down…

…and thought, that’s a bummer. I didn’t accomplish anything today.

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Somewhere along the line, washing dishes and making dinner became my new pushing papers. Something I don’t necessarily mind, and often enjoy, but that doesn’t feel like an accomplishment. It just has to be redone anyway. The dinner gets eaten, the dishes re-dirtied, the paperwork out of date.

I’m not sure what I want, exactly, to show for my day, but it seems I always want more. Or different, at least. Something other than the same-old to make the day stand out in my mind.

It wasn’t so much the dish washing that appealed to me back in the day – it was the thought of stealing time from one activity to accomplish another. Or, I suppose, the feeling of getting work (housework, in that case) done in a time slot marked for something else, freeing up a later time slot for anything I want.

I think this is also the main cause of my chronic lateness. I’m always trying to squeeze tasks into slots of time when I should be doing something else (or driving to someplace else). But if I can manage to ‘steal’ that time, I’ll have some open time later…or so I hope.

Hmmm.