A Case of The Monday :(

I'm not going to say I've never had a Case of The Mondays before, but it has had to be years since I had my last one. I try to start my week out right on Sunday and carry that over into the the beginning of the workweek, using that positive momentum to push me forward, enabling me to complete the week strong. I'm usually not aching for Friday or dragging myself through Hump Day. All-in-all, I typically value each day of the week and can appreciate the small goals and challenges I must complete and overcome to pass successfully to the next day. However, today was not that day...

I'm not sure if it related to my ever disintegrating structure of a typical workweek or what, but I'm starting to lose a sense of purpose and that is pushing me closer to that edge. What I mean is that, simply put, I like structure - a lot. I like having a somewhat predictable routine, needing to wake up at roughly the same time everyday, having tasks that need to be completed so that either I can progress or that others might benefit, things like that. And unlike many I know, I value the workweek not only because it helps provide a sense of purpose, but also because it helps me value the weekend. However, in recent months, it has been quite some time since I had a "routine." My primary job consists of telecommuting and I irregularly received my work, so I have highly irregular hours and work days (typically for this job I work M, W, Th, Fri, Sat/Sun, at random hours of the day/night). My supposedly consistent job at Barnes and Noble is spiraling down the drain like the rest of the US economy, causing our store to take drastic measure and cost everyone's hours (and by everyone, I clearly am not including the hours of the 15 managers we have running around the store...excessive? yes!). And then catering and substitute teaching are touch and go. All summing up to a major lack of structure in my life. Which means that I am losing my sense of direction, motivation, and desire to actively live (i.e. be productive).

Today might have just been the straw that broke the camel's back. I woke up early (read: 7am) after going to bed late (read: 3am) to go to a doctor's appointment. Now, this was supposed to be just a quick eye exam so that my PCP could finish filling out forms I need completed for med school. How on Earth an eye exam turned into PPD shot 1 and a tetanus shot, I will never know. What I do know is 1) I have to pay for those with money I don't have and 2) my arm hurt all day. I was exhausted, so I came home and passed out until about 1pm. I woke to a still gloomy, overcast and drizzling, dreary day, which did not help to revitalize me.

I then ran to work to check out the week's schedule because I heard it had been changed. Come to find out, the evil Boss Woman cancelled a bunch of shifts for the week, including my one and only shift this week...meaning I don't go into work the following week, for which she has me scheduled during a time I am permanently unavailable. Pssh, I'm past the point of caring...I might just not show up. No call, no show = fired, this I know, BUT when you're repeatedly hardly scheduled to work, does that really make that big of a difference? Nah... Then, I had the misfortune of actually running into the woman. See, this Boss B is new, and hasn't really been introduced to anyone, but basically came in and cut people's hours, is highly unfavored, and her reputation precedes her. I now see why. I ran in to check the schedule, only to find a little group of my co-workers hovered around the schedule, confused and angry, talking to her about it. She then pauses, turns towards me, precedes to look me up and done like she's trying to evaluate me, and then rudely says something in this repulsed tone... Errr?!? Excuse me? Yall know I am not the one to offend and today was certainly not the day to push that button. I wanted to box that Boss B in the throat! Now, of course I'm not a violent person and would never actually do that, but...the thought did linger in my mind for a good minute. I'm almost impressed how quickly one person was able to turn a happy workplace into a depressive environment that people don't enjoy working in anymore. The change was literally overnight.

I leave there pissed that I now have ~14 days on my schedule without income and I am disturbed by my run-in with Boss B. I get home to find my first financial aid package in the mail. Apparently medical schools aren't big on providing financial aid? I'm broke, my EFC = 0, and yet somehow I'm expected to come up with the full amount not covered by Federal Loans (~$36K per year). Um...whaaaat?!? I'm hoping that it's just this one school that sucks in the financial aid department. I was recently at their Second Look and they more or less implied that they basically award everyone the same thing (i.e. nothing) and their students just sign the next 15-20+ years of their lives away to them. It's depressing to think I might be in debt until I'm in midlife...and people say doctors get paid too much - ha! Makes me consider taking an armed forces branch up on their offer to cover my medical education in exchange for some years of service...we'll see. I'm really hoping that it's just this school's weak point and that other institutions are stronger in this area.

So, we got shots/unexpected expenses, no income for 2 weeks right when I'm flying away for another Second Look, a slap in the face with the reality of the amount of debt I'm about to be buried alive in for the next two decades, and some crappy weather to boot. I don't think having to share a home with someone who telecommutes a minimum of 3 days a week and who apparently hates silence helps in the very least. Frustrated? Why yes, yes I am.

Just using the term "Case of The Mondays" makes me want to go and watch Office Space. Perhaps I will...Lord knows I could use a good pick-me-up!

Becoming the Healthiest Doc I Can Be...

I start working out regularly this fall. I joined a local gym, hired a personal trainer I meet with twice a month, all that. Why? Because I want to be the healthiest person I can be and a healthy doctor. Personally, it irks me when I see unhealthy doctors - whether they're obese or smokers or just avid consumers of junk food, it really bothers me and makes no sense. I see part of the role of the doctor as being a role model for their patients. Lead by example - that's always my motto.

However, this quest to get fit has been a long and frustrating battle. It took forever and a day to see the scale move (granted, I was doing cardio and intense weight training...my trainer looks like Mr. Clean), but now that it's started, it's dropping consistently pretty nicely. I think keys things that have helped have been conscientiously increasing my water consumption (and what clear skin I have!) as well as sleep. While overweight, I've never really been a bad eater (well, Southern food in college aside), but I've learned to watch my portions and make sure to eat no later than 4 hours before bed. The hardest part is really when I'm out with friends (especially those late night meals...smh). I'm so happy the warmer weather has arrived. This week I've started moving my gym workouts to the morning and doing some other physical activity in the evening...trying to keep that metabolism up! Right now, I'm feeling the long, brisk walk at dusk, but I would love to join some type of local group sport, like tennis or basketball. Being outdoors as much as possible has somehow become one of my new favorite things (in addition to endorphins). Maybe it's the vitamin D I'm getting or all the beautiful colors emerging...I'm not sure.

Another issue that has been an obstacle in this journey to get fit is my PCOS. It's a condition I suffer that has the lovely side effect of increasing fat storage and resisting weight loss. Suffice it to say I have to work twice as hard to get the same results as the average person. But, I'm alright with that. I know what I must do, and am aware it's just going to take longer to do it. What is nice to see, is that without medication, I have started to naturally reverse the disorder. I had tried the medication before (not even currently an option, seeing as I lack insurance) and while I can drop weight much quicker on it, 1) the side effects are rough to adjust to, and 2) the changes are not permanent. At least this way, the changes I'm making will last forever. Plus, I'm not a fan of medicating when not absolutely necessary. Americans are completely overmedicated.

Biggest problem I face with working out - The Hair!!! Black women know this struggle all too well. On top of things, I do not have a relaxer. And while I'm alright with the texture and state of my natural head of hair, I have a problem with putting so much time and energy into getting it nice a prim for church only to have it back to drab by Monday evening. Well, if I do move to New Orleans, we all know I'll be investing in some braids. I have no idea how else to deal with that heat and humidity, and Lord knows I refuse to slap any chemicals into my hair to make it permanently straight.

Resolutions Update

As part of my New Years’ Resolution this year, I pledged to lead a more minimalistic life. Seems simple enough, right? Cut back on excess in all areas and live happily with what you have. In doing so, I figured I would have increased amount of time to devote to old leisurely activities such as reading and piano. But then, as always, this simple process became unnecessarily complicated. I start thinking about what I’m ready to toss out, a process I actually get excited about – I love de-cluttering! However, then I start debating what to keep and what to toss. Seems simple, but in a minimalistic life, the few things left are highly representative of you. Yes, you possessed them all along, but now they stand out in stark contrast to the large amount of space you've acquired and really speak to who you are. Puts a bit of a damper on the happy-go-lucky throwing unimportant things away task when you feel pressured to carefully chose what you’re going to let represent you.

Then came the debate of "How far do I take it???" Part of me wanted to go down to the bare necessities. I’m talking about pants and a t-shirt all day, every day. At one point, I even wanted to take it to wearing either a white or a black tee every day, and khakis or jeans with plain shoes. I wanted to see how content I could be in my own skin with the bare essentials clothing me…no sparkling designs, or flashy earrings or shoes, or big bags – just me, as I am. Which then lead me to think that perhaps I need to do some research on minimalism. Maybe find an autobiography of some minimalistic revolutionary leader or the basic principles and philosophies behind minimalism. Then I thought – to be going minimalist, you are doing too much. This should not be some harried task, but rather a pleasured, effortless act exposing my more of soul to the everyday world - when you look this way, you see ME, not my material stuff.

Feeling slightly overwhelmed, I started cutting back little and little in different areas. First, I started minimizing time spent in front of the TV, or on the MacBook, or playing with technology in general. This transition was eased by an increased workload. Then I went on to no purchasing of unnecessary items that are not essential to life. I must say, I have done rather well in the “No Shopping” department. I did buy a pair of silver-studded booties from Macy's, HOWEVER, I purchased them with a gift card I received for Christmas. Plus, black is the most basic color you can get, right? And, ideally, I would love to be at a point where I open my closest and I have very simple choices facing me of what to wear, not a million choices for what to cover each part of my body with. However, at the same time, I think I'm way too creative of a person to ever live like that contently for an extended period of time. Shoot, I think I nearly went crazy for that decade I spent in uniforms. I did everything I could to add my own little twist to the monotony of life at there.

This is the way a friend put it… “…the way I see it, I don't want anything I deem unnecessary or excessive or just not special to me in whatever way I require, BUT I do want to have my creative enjoyment…I want to have enough things but only ones that I really like and value…to keep finding/purchasing things above a certain par of being worthwhile to me and keep ridding myself of unnecessary things…that way I guess my inventory would stay about the same but be much more effective.”

I think that perfectly summarizes where I want to be in this journey toward minimalism...at least for now. I think I'm going to make some big cuts as I continue this moving process. Slight tangent: I am most likely moving come May, so I went ahead and rented a Public Storage unit so that I can start slowly moving out of this house, rather than having to do one big rushed move. Personally, I think it's a genius idea! And, I'm going to use this slow move to kill two birds with one stone: 1) greatly decrease the anxiety and stress of moving by spreading it out over many weeks and 2) use it to cut my accumulation of "stuff" at least in half. Wish me luck!

Best Thing I've EVER Done!!!

As someone who's lost a parent at a young age, it didn't take much, if anything, to convince me of the worthwhileness of Comfort Zone Camp. As soon as I heard it's mission, I couldn't help but become involved as quickly as possible. However, as the days approached, I became more apprehensive than imaginable. Questions started popping into my head as to whether I'd be a good Big Buddy to the kids and whether the camp would live up to it's reputation. I mean, it had been hyped up to this phenomenal weekend camp that had the power to transform the lives of both campers and volunteers in roughly a 48 hour period. How could anything possibly live up to that? As a child, I was continuously warned to "keep my highs low, and my lows high," so while I knew the camp was very positive and that my experience would be good, I was trying not to expect some nearly supernatural experience this past weekend. However, that is exactly what I received...

I was discussing my experience on the phone with a dear friend Sunday night (actually, it's the friend that put me on to the camp). We both agree, no matter how detailed it is described, it is one of those "you gotta see it to believe it" things. The experience there is considered "life within the camp bubble," and a bubble it truly is. By the end of camp, which started roughly at 2:30pm Friday and ended at 4:00pm Sunday, I could have sworn I was there a good week. They really cram so much into every minute of the weekend, and you turbo-bond like never before. I left camp feeling like I knew some of these people for years and we were now best friends.

Beyond the miraculous slowed down and elongated time phenomenon experienced there, I really met some people (both young and old) I would consider superhuman. I'd rank these kids among some of the strongest humans I have ever met. If I had gone through what some of them went through, I'm not too sure I would have made it out - let alone as strong and determined as they were. The unimaginable stories of these children's lives - what they lived through before, during, and after their losses - made me cry all weekend...as did their stories of resilience and firmness of purpose.

If you have ever caught yourself wondering where all the good people in the world are hiding, the answer is here. So many people from all walks of life, united for the common cause of simply being a listening ear and an untiring encouragement to these children learning to navigate the grieving process. Selfless individuals continually smiling and giving of themselves and their difficult stories they cry to to be inspirations and sources of support for these kids.

There was a shirt being sold at camp that said on the front "CZC Supporter" and on the back it read "I helped a child realize they are not alone." You have no idea how much I wanted to buy the shirt (I will one day...didn't bring money)! It's the truth though. A old theme of camp was that when you lost someone close to you, it felt as if a puzzle piece to your heart was missing. And not only was it missing and you could feel that emptiness, but that lacking piece was visible and evident to those around you, thus making you feel different. And we all know, most kids don't want to be different, most kids (especially teens) want to be accepted, not to feel alone. However, the transformations I witnessed this weekend were incredible. I watched children arrive, some willingly and other forced to come, untrusting of a world that had snatched a loved one from them unexpectedly, uneasy to speak, some unsmiling, and I was a little overwhelmed for a moment. That's when I downed the free adult-sized coffee, turned on the smile, channeled my inner teenage camper and ran to meet my Little. By the end of the week, everyone was smiling and laughing, kids that had stopped performing activities since their loved ones died were performing before the entire camp at the closing memorial service, and children who couldn't even bare to mention the names of their lost ones ending camp by verbally paying homage to them. These numerous powerful transformations almost brought me to my knees.

To know that the amount of love and positive energy, and the opportunity to vent in a safe space, all contained in a 48 hours period, is enough to tangibly change the lives of ~65 kids...I mean, talk about having an impact on the world. I worked with teenagers, and you could see some of them coming into camp with destructive habits and behaviors forming, and leaving a changed individual, hopefully steered back on-course, able to overcome obstacles that will inevitably present themselves on their road to reaching their full potential.

I come away feeling blessed to have had this opportunity and to experience such a powerful force. I feel honored to have connected so deeply with those in my HC, who trusted me enough to share their stories with me. And I hope that the small bit of my story that I shared was of benefit to someone else. I've never felt this happy and hopeful before :)

.:There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you:. ...Maya Angelou...

Can’t See the Forest Through the Trees

These past few weeks have been rough. Aside from my typical yearlong struggle with finances and other things, there have been many battles my family has been facing in recent months, all seeming to snowball to the point where one day I just know I’m going to wake up to a full-blown disaster and be left speechless. I pray that day doesn’t come (we’ve already had a few serious scares), but at the rate situations are spiraling out of control, I really don’t expect much else.

Through all the chaos swirling around me, blurring my sight of my life goals, I try to remind myself how blessed I am. I try to visualize how far God has brought my family within a few generations. I try to recall His promises and remember His grace and love. But, sometimes it’s hard, almost too hard, to hear myself over the cacophony arising all around me. Whether its trouble at one of my jobs, or harassment from the government (who just can’t seem to keep my deferment of loans straight), or the home phone ringing nonstop about the latest emergency situation halfway across the country we are trying to fix, it seems that there is always at least three things blaring to get my attention. Sometimes, I wish I could just drift to sleep and wake up 10-15 years down the road and see how everything has resolved itself. I mean, I know that God is in control and that everything that is occurring is happening for a specific purpose, even if only to develop something within me, but it is tiring.

I don’t think this volunteering opportunity could have come at a better moment in time for me. This weekend, starting tomorrow afternoon, I will be completely cell phone-free and unreachable while I volunteer at Comfort Zone Camp. This camp is the largest bereavement camp in the nation, geared towards children ages 7-17 who have lost a parent, a caregiver, or a sibling. Volunteers, called “Big Buddies,” get paired with a camper and our goal is to be a “big ear with arms to hug” for the children, to help them through their coping process. I am nervous and excited beyond measure. A good friend of mine volunteer with the camp last year, and once she filled me in on the details, I could feel my heart strings tugging and knew there was no way I could not join in this effort. As I sit here and a read a little background information on my camper, I am so nervous that I won’t be a good enough Big Buddy. However, from reading about the type of person she is, I can tell that I will have to pour all of myself into her and her weekend in order to make a breakthrough – what an exhilarating possibility! Interesting thought, right? That completely emptying yourself into another human being is a wholly filling and fulfilling experience...

I say this couldn’t have come at a better moment because I believe that volunteering helps better appreciate that which we’ve been blessed with. And I know that I am blessed beyond measure – there is no way, looking at my family history, that I would logically end up where I am today if not for the hand of God…none. However, I’m feeling a bit trapped amongst the trees. I’m so embroiled in my daily battles that have seemingly been raging for ages (in reality, it’s only been a few months, lol…got to love the relativity of time!) that I’ve lost sight of the big picture – the beautiful forest I’m in. As Talib Kweli raps, “life is a beautiful struggle.” Sure, there are nasty, thorny trees with large gnarled roots waiting to tangle and trip us up as we make our way through, but the big picture is that splendidly beautiful forest of endless opportunities and blessings that comprise a majority of our individual spheres of reality. Not every tree in there is a potential hazard, threatening to jeopardize our future…some are delicious fruit bearing trees there to sustain us, while others provide us shelter, while others serve medicinal purposes. Point is, I bet for every one bad tree, as seemingly large, menacing, and insurmountable it might appear to us, there are probably a good ten other trees around us, possibly appearing smaller, but bearing substantial benefits to our wellbeing. For whatever reason, the bad ones are always more noticeable. That’s why it’s great to have a rest, where you can be lifted out of your own little forest and be able to take a peak into someone else’s. Chances are, you won’t like what you see any better and when you go back into your forest, the bad trees will seem a lot smaller than they formerly appeared. Just a hunch.

Haha. I’m sitting here all nervous and giddy like a schoolgirl on the night before the first day of classes! I’m pumped! I can’t wait to get up, get out, make a difference, and come back the old me!

Reading Correctly

Don't ask me where this thought even came from, but I was just thinking about how easy school has always been for me and how everything seemed to come naturally from the start (arguably, this could be re-written as "never really challenged in my primary education" ha). I think I stumbled on this because I was thinking of how ready I am to get back into the classroom and start learning more, and how much I cannot wait to be a doctor. Then my mind drifted onto an theory I firmly believe: irrespective of the field, reading is essential to success. I firmly believe that most successful people in most areas like to read. Now, they might not like to read any- and everything, but at least in regards to their areas of expertise, they read in their spare time, and they don't mind doing the hours of research (read: reading) necessary to take lead in their fields, to discover new things, or to simply learn from those who came before them.

But then it hit me - back in 2nd grade I had a terrible battle with one subject in particular: reading! You see, I had attended a very small private school (I mean, there were 7 kids in my first grade class...shout out to Lane Robbins!!!) and they had their own little philosophy on learning. One area they really emphasized was getting students interested in reading very early on (apparently, they too thought reading was key to success). So, in essence, they focused on getting us to read and to like participating in the activity, and didn't want to deter us from it, so they opted not to correct us when we messed up. They emphasized encouragement of actively trying to get ourselves through books, rather than getting through correctly. While I do think this helped us enjoy activity, you can imagine what types of bad habits were picked up, never broken, and possibly positively reinforced... So yes, as a little tyke, I loved reading, but Lord only knows what illogical phrases were coming out of my mouth during those early years.

As I said, the school was tiny, and as such, only went up to 1st grade. Therefore, I transferred to a local Christian school (clearly, mom was not a fan of the local public school system...it did have a bad rep). When I got there, I was on-pace or ahead of my classmates in all areas except for reading/reading comprehension. I had to spend extra time unlearning the false things instilled in me at my former school and learning how to do the basics correctly. Now, clearly I don't remember any of this, but my mom has told me about it on more than one occasion. I spent a lot of time and energy that year getting caught up with my peers and learning how to read correctly. Funny thing is I arguably became the best reader in my class, always volunteering to read aloud and focusing extra hard on my spelling and vocabulary words (even placed in the division spelling bee a few times). I'm all about the "that which does not kill us only makes us stronger."

This reminds me of something my friend wrote the other day as a fb status: everyone is weak and everyone is strong. we're strong because we're weak.At first look, I immediately dismissed it. I said, "Pssh. That makes no sense. I hate weakness," and I preceded to close my mind. Then, feeling slightly guilty, I decided to think it through a bit and thought, "I hate weakness, but I guess that hate for my own weakness pushes me to be better...making weakness a strength." My friend swiftly kicked me in the rear with reality and stated, "You probably didnt see what I meant BECAUSE you hate weakness and maybe you didnt want to see it that way...that's just a human thing." Ouch! Isn't that the truth though? We see what we want to see and turn aside contradictory interpretations or information that would cause us to rethink our position. In psychology, it's called the confirmation bias, and is one of the most basic heuristics (read: cognitive shortcuts) employed by humans to make better sense of their world when resources are limited (i.e. time, energy). Heuristics are good and necessary for, as I mentioned, conditions where we are pressed for time and need to make quick decision, but what happens when we start to rely on them aside from these circumstances? When we carry them over into everyday life?

Clearly no answer I give holds true across all situations, but I will still venture my personal philosophy. When we use these cognitive shortcuts intended for scenarios where it's impossible for most appropriate cues to be taken into consideration, we run the risk of misreading situations. Cognitive shortcuts work because, subconsciously, they take the most salient cues that have proven successful in predicting outcomes over time and use them to draw a quick conclusion. Works fairly well when you just can't pay enough attention to everything you should be using to arrive at an answer. However, when you unnecessarily ignore these other cues and rely on shortcuts to draw conclusions under normal circumstance, you are in fact misreading the situation. You are not taking into account all you should and are therefore doing yourself a disservice. You are hastily and unnecessarily drawing conclusions. In short, if left unchecked, you succumb to living life based on stereotypes and prejudices.

What strikes me as funny is how I read now. I am an avid skimmer of non-leisurely texts. This includes, but is not limited to, AIM, fb, twitter, instructions, emails...basically everything I don't innately find interesting or chose to read on my own. What I find myself doing many times is rushing through the texts, not taking things in fully, and misreading and/or misinterpretting them. In short, I read through a heuristically-coated lens. And you see where that gets me, right? Looking a fool from time to time when I respond according to what I assumed was written as opposed to what was there in reality. Lesson of the Day, kiddies: Heuristics of out context = BAD! Hmmm, part of me wonders if subconsciously my skimmings are biased by my initial reading mishaps back in primary school. Are these initial errors ingrained in my subconscious? Perchance...Whatever the case, one must read correctly, both literally and cognitively, in order to succeed. You can't get it right if you don't comprehend correctly.