Silence Has Fallen

I've been quiet on the social media front lately. 

At first, it was for a very good reason: a phenomenal apostolic and prophetic conference at my church in early January caused me to do a lot of reflecting and thinking - in a good way.  I don't plan on getting into an explanation or defense of prophetic teaching at this point; suffice it to say that I got a lot of encouragement and really, some of my joy back.  I began to hope again.  The reminder that God is bigger than anything I am facing - well, that was much-needed.

But, alas, as often happens with big events and experiences, we must return to our daily (often dull) lives, and some of that sparkle fades.  Now, what I took away from the conference - renewed hope, the belief that I will someday (soon!) be a mother, and that God will provide for us - is still living in my heart.  But two weeks of continued failures on the job front, a (still) busted television, unwelcome side effects from medication, frigid weather, the challenges of a (voluntary and temporary) vegetarian lifestyle, and a general sense of apathy have combined and left me feeling a little...

...lumpy.

I can't think of a better word than that, but anyone who's experiences what I have knows exactly what I mean when I say 'lumpy'.  I mean...kind of useless.  Unneeded.  Not depressed, exactly, not sad...but aimless.  I haven't been working on my novels.  I have been counting my calories.   The good news is, I've lost four pounds.  The bad news is...

...I'm still unemployed. 

My little sister got me a lovely insulated lunchbox for my birthday, complete with a monogram.  I haven't gotten to use it yet.

When I lost my job at Starbucks in 2008, I had an interview with Dollar Bank within 6 weeks and was back on my feet with better hours and a shorter commute (most of the time).  My move to Fenner allowed me even better hours and an even shorter commute.  I guess the only reasonable move is to work from home.  But doing what?  I've always felt iffy about earning money for my blogs.  And I am no eBay queen like my stepmum Deana is.  I thought about selling on Etsy for a while, then compared my poor scrawlings to the work available there, and realized that I am no artist - just a doodler.  I thought about selling my poetry, you know, writing original pieces upon request.  Painters do commissions; why couldn't a writer?  Still, I'm not sure there is a market for that.  Except the one dude I wrote love letters for 2 years ago.  $100 for about 11 minutes' work isn't a bad deal, I'd say.

Fortunately for me, Valentine's Day is coming up and I am in every way surrounded my unromantic males.  Maybe I can profit from this...

I mean, really.  As amazing as my cats are, I can only take 1,340 pictures of them before my phone is full.  Geez.