There are Words Swirling Around in My Head

Just as I was drifting off to sleep, words began swirling into that tiny space between my subconscious and conscious mind, forcing me awake. I tried to ignore them, but then the words began to join together and form sentences that refused to be ignored. So I rolled over. As I closed my eyes again, I knew that I was wasting my time. Sleep was not coming until I released the words and their well-formed sentences into the ether.

Its never been easy for me to go to sleep. Each night when I finally exhaust myself into unconsciousness, a freight train could blast its way through our bedroom and I wouldn’t hear it. Falling asleep? Well, that is the problem. My mother used to say that when I was a baby, I learned to fight sleep. She would put me to bed and I would lay there fretting until my father got home from working 2nd shift, a little after midnight. Then, I would easily fall asleep knowing he was home.

The words that prevented me from falling asleep tonight are for a blog post at work. I had thought about publishing a story this week about Thanksgiving, featuring the work of the region’s 37 food pantries. I considered showing how these agencies and their volunteers are on the front lines fighting hunger. But its a big story — one that deserves more time than what I had to respectfully produce it.

Then, in those moments as I was drifting off to sleep, an idea for new story began writing itself. I already have a story ready publish this week. But if I can make the words and well-formed sentences magically return tomorrow, I’ll write a better story. I don’t have all the information or otherwise I’d be writing that story now. So this overwhelming urge to write will have to be satisfied with what I’ve written here, knowing that I’ll get to the real story tomorrow.

Obviously, I haven’t kept up with the NaBloPoMo 30-day writing challenge. I knew it was going to be hard. November is a crazy month for me. The college basketball season begins, three annual projects at work consume my life, my husband becomes overwhelmed with end-of-the-semester grading, and I kick into overdrive cleaning the house for the holidays. If I had managed to post something each of the 30 days, I would have been considered for a free trip to the 2015 BlogHer Conference. I’m not interested in attending anyway. So I don’t feel guilty about missing a few days. The truth is, even though I wasn’t publishing here, each of those days I was writing for something else. There is hardly a day that goes by that I’m not writing something, which was the whole point of the challenge. So if participating in NaBloPoMo did anything (and it did several positive things), it motivated me to start publishing here again.

That’s a good thing, right?

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The Racers are Playing and I’m Missing It

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We love Racer basketball and look forward to every game.

Tonight, Murray State University kicks off its basketball season. And I’m missing it. Granted its only an exhibition game against a small school from down the road. But still — I’m missing it.

I’ve waited six months for this season to begin. The Racers are coming off a national championship (no not that national championship) the College Insider Tournament (CIT). Winning the CIT was the icing on the cake, after a difficult season. The whole town is abuzz about this year’s potential. While other college basketball fans think of winning the NCAA tournament, Racer fans only want four things:

1) Beat Western KY University
2) Beat Austin Peay
3) Beat Belmont
4) Win the Ohio Valley Conference (OVC) title back

Its not much, but to RacerNation, achieving those four things will make us all pretty darn happy. If we do win the OVC, then we’ll get to go back to the NCAA — that will be exciting. But I promise you, winning those three games mentioned above, will mean more than bringing home the NCAA title. Well, okay, probably not. I guess winning the NCAA would be nice, but beating the crap out of Belmont will feel much better. You see, life’s much simpler when you’re a mid-major basketball fan.

When you live in the Bluegrass State, everybody is a basketball fan. To be specific, we’re all college basketball fans. The NBA has never really held our attention. Babies born during basketball season come home from the hospital wearing UK or UofL gear. If its game day — their parents are dressed to match.

Kentuckians aren’t that concerned about college football. Its not that we don’t like the sport, but its just not the same. And besides isn’t the best part of a college football game really the half-time show? Our football teams might struggle, but we’ve got some amazing marching bands.

But I digress.

Instead of cheering the Racers to a victory tonight, I’m already in my pj’s. After I publish this post I’ll snuggle up with our fur babies and watch an episode of Ally McBeal on Netflix. Once I drift off to sleep, I’m sure I’ll dream about next week’s game against Houston.

Go Racers!

My Brain is Mush

Its day four of NaBloPoMo and frankly, I can barely form a sentence. I spent the whole day writing. My brain is mush and its my bedtime. Not a good combination for a clever blog post. But I’m determined to post something, I can’t fail at this process on day four. That would just be sad. The thing is, I’ve already published a blog post today, but that was for work and not for Despite Everything. So it doesn’t count. (But if you’re curious, go visit the other blog I write for, PADD Perspectives.)

I’m thrilled that I got to spend the day writing. I’m blessed to have a job that allows me to exercise my creative muscles. But writing challenges me more than anything else I do. I’m not a natural writer. It takes me forever to find the right words or define the right mood. Eventually, I get there. Some stories are better than others. I’ll never win any awards for my writing efforts, but they are always the best that I can do.

Unlike tonight, when I just want to fulfill my obligation to post something more than I got up. I went to work. I checked off a couple items from my to-do list. I got off the beaten path when I drove home. I voted. I got to see my son cast his first vote. I watched the election returns. And then I remembered to write this post.

See, some stories really are better than others. I promise I’ll do better tomorrow. Hopefully.

Everybody Has a Story to Tell

Everyone has a story tell; unfortunately, not everyone has someone to listen. There are people all around us who are lonely and just need to know that someone cares. It doesn’t matter what socioeconomic class they may be in, loneliness is an equal opportunity emotion.

In the past couple of weeks, I’ve had the privilege of meeting two individuals. Because of their unique circumstances, they have found themselves struggling. They’ve both worked hard all their lives. Neither expected their golden years to be what they’ve become. And neither has allowed their situation to break their spirit.

As I sat listening to their individual stories, I realized that I had a been given an overwhelming privilege by becoming their friend. I tried to soak up every moment of our time together. But most of all, I listened and prayed that I wouldn’t trivialize their lives by my attempts to justify a program service. I appreciated how they shared their stories with honesty and insight. They thoughtfully answered my questions and then smiled for my camera.

While both made an impact on me too deep to describe here on this blog, I find it fitting to acknowledge my time with them during NaBloPoMo. Because I will forever carry their stories in my heart.

There are thousands of others just waiting to tell their stories. Will you stop and listen? Or simply give a stranger a smile? How many of us have hurriedly passed a stranger on the street, hoping not to catch their eye? Why do we do that? Is it because we’re too busy in our own lives to give a few minutes to another human being? Or is it because we don’t want to be burdened with the unfortunate side of life? Afraid that we might somehow expose our own pain by listening to theirs?

I challenge you, my readers, to go outside of your comfort zone and find a way to listen to a stranger’s story. You’ll be rewarded for the effort, and they will know that they matter and aren’t alone in this world.

 

 

 

 

If it’s Sunday, it’s Laundry Day

imageWe’ve been married for 23 years. Lucky for me, we share most of the household tasks. We cook together, we clean house together, and we work in our yard together. We avoid washing the windows together. Without Vince’s help, I could never accomplish everything my mother taught me are necessary household chores. But in all these years, I alone have had the sole responsibility of doing laundry.

Every Saturday morning, Sam and I deliver our dirty duds to the laundry room. Most of the time, he dumps it in the middle of the floor. If I’ve left some clue to which basket is for jeans and which basket is for black t-shirts, he’ll go ahead and sort. Otherwise, he’ll leave it for me to deal with.

Vince on the other hand, leaves his dirty duds piled in the bathroom. Sometimes, he’ll pick them up and dump them on my pile of dirty duds in our bedroom. But most of the time, there’s a growing tower of dirty laundry beside the shower. For years, I would pick it up for him. Then I decided that, as a grown man, he can see the non-compliant structure being built in our bathroom. If he does manage to take his dirty duds to the laundry room, he won’t attempt to sort as my method befuddles him. Unlike our son, he won’t just add his jeans to the dirty jeans basket. I’ve tried to teach him how to sort, but he can’t comprehend its simplicity: whites, grays and khakis, colors, navy and black, and jeans. He overthinks it by considering the density of each item. Washing sheets with towels doesn’t make sense to him. Washing white sheets and white towels together makes perfect sense to me.

Probably more than I realize, over the years Vince has tackled loads of laundry for me. Sometimes, I’ll ask. Sometimes, it’s from necessity. He never complains, and bless his heart, in the last few weeks he’s even been helping fold and putting things away.

At Chez Medlock, doing laundry is a six-step process. Anything less isn’t “doing laundry.”

Step One: Collecting the dirty laundry.

Step Two: Sorting the dirty laundry.

Step Three: Washing each load following a specific order of priority.
a. Two loads of whites
i. Sheets and towels
ii. Everything else that is white
b. One load of gray and khaki
c. One load of colors
d. One load of navy and black
e. One load of jeans

Step Four: Drying the clean laundry.

Step Five: Folding the clean laundry.

Step Six: Putting away the clean laundry.

This is where I will disclose that my clothing doesn’t actually get put away. Once sorted, things that aren’t hung in my closet stay dumped on the laundry room counter. I don’t have enough storage, but then what woman does?

Sundays are laundry day. I’ve tried doing laundry during the week, but frankly it drives me crazy. I’ll forget a step, or worse, I’ll forget that I started a load only to discover it the following Sunday. Yeeks!

No matter what else I’m doing on a Sunday, doing laundry seems to naturally fit in. So here, on NaBloPoMo Day 2, I’m spending the day going through the Medlock Six-Step Process of Laundry Day. Other things might get accomplished or they might not. But at least we’ll have clean clothes for the week.

So what’s your laundry routine? Leave a comment below and tell me how you make the world a cleaner place by doing laundry.