The Power of Dumb / Encouragement!

If there’s one thing I can count on to drive my behavior to amazing new limits, it’s stupidity.

I don’t know if it’s my OCD, or just some kind of nonsensical aversion, but I just can’t deal with the Indiana Bureau of Motor Vehicles. This has no basis in reality. I have had zero problems with any person at the BMV, I even know people who work there personally—and I like them! Obviously, there’s a certain level of bureaucracy. I expect that from a government agency, and I don’t have a problem with that, either. My aversion has generally taken me to the point where I’ve gotten warning tickets for not renewing my license. Sigh… Then, I just go in, and it’s not a problem.

After having moved back here, though. It’s gotten worse. I have to get a new license, and because of an unpaid speeding ticket in Chicago (I think they only give speeding tickets to people who don’t actually live in Chicago because no one got time fo’ dat.), I have to get my license reinstated because it’s actually suspended. I’ve been putting this off for months, and it’s just not going away.

I know this. I understand this. I still don’t want to deal with this.

So, I’ve spent the entire morning on the phone and I’ve talked to three very nice people. It’s all getting squared away and it’s not a problem.

Why don’t I feel better?

You would think, after overcoming what is, perhaps, the most dreaded of all my current dreads (I’d rather get all my teeth pulled), I would feel like a million bucks at this level of accomplishment.

But I don’t. I just feel like shit.

Now, if I was a certain kind of blogger, this would be the time I would shift myself into high encouragement mode. Having finished talking about how hard life is, I would then probably talk about Jesus and how just knowing Jesus makes my life so much better, and every hardship more endurable. I would then commence to remind you that Jesus could do all those things for you, in spite of all our mutual difficulties and hardships.

You, dear reader (because I would be the kind of blogger that calls readers “dear reader”) would sigh in acknowledgment and proceed to share my awesomeness with approximately seven other people. This would be likewise appreciated and I could chalk up another six thousand views to my blog advertising.

I do not understand this.

I write from the heart. I do. I tell you readers the real shit. I give it all I’ve got (though, admittedly, not very often; despite the fact that I’m not homeschooling three or more kids and running a family business while my husband is probably enlisted and in another place, or at the least farming our vast acreage—did I mention my book?). I’m not saying I don’t have a relationship with Jesus, or that my faith in God has not helped me through some difficult times. I don’t have a husband who farms. I don’t even have a husband. I just don’t get how having a husband and kids and how life is hard can generate an endless stream of blog posts that are read and shared approximately 7,891 times. Each. Every other day.

I don’t think it’s a case of sour grapes. I’m glad those people have that readership. I’m glad when people have somewhere to turn when they’re going through crappy times. I get that. I just want that.

I am such a whiner. Sigh…