the new four letter word

so, work is still teh sadness.

i don't know what it is about work that turns otherwise would-be perfectly exuberant girls into serious ones, talking quietly while cocoa cream cheese muffins bake. why is it, that back in uni we could be stressed with essays and projects and yet, when meeting up over a cup of tea we could be so cheerful, so happy.

and why is it that events two years ago still count? once in awhile, i'll remember flashes of what transpired that blazing day by the reservoir, and a part of me ruefully concludes that if nothing else perhaps i have been proven true.

i don't know, i wish i did. every day i tell myself that this, the daily grind, calls of duty, meetings, behaviour management and classroom control has its purpose, and worth, in a place where i feel neither drive nor ambition, faithfulness is the offering i bring. to learn to do well at tasks that seem to demand what i am precisely weakest at. does it have to be dreary?

oh, stuff and bunnies. (and zirrafes)