Dear God

Dear God,
I am angry. I am frustrated. It seems every time I head out for a run I talk to you and reaffirm my faith and the hope that my life is safely in your hands. And somehow every other day when I run I find myself running through the same or similar conversations.
I am tired. I try not to struggle. I try to believe that it is all in your hands and you know what you are doing even when I don't. Just when I think something is going to break my way, the door is slammed shut in my face.
I think I have done the right thing and someone feels the need to criticise and pull me down.
I try to accept that certain things are not for me, a house of my own being one of them at the moment. I tell myself that there are many, many people who have it worse than me. That really I have it pretty good.
But I just don't feel like a success. I feel I have achieved so little. I have been sure several times in my life that I am stepping out into Your will and that doing so would come with not yet another crash. And here I am picking myself up once again.
There are times I wish I could give up but I just don't seem to be able to do that. It is somehow not in my make-up.
I've got to say though I wish this last week hadn't come with the need to tell myself to 'toughen up princess it's not the end of the world'. To swallow past my disappointment. To find a way around the anger of the real estate agent giving me a bad report based on a few insects stuck in the stained glass sky lights, a couple of broken globes (due to them not repairing the electrics properly) and a few cobwebs that escaped my broom.
Why did you give me a creative spirit if so many things around me are intent on shutting it down? Why am I compelled to create when in the end it doesn't pay my bills, and brings criticism from those who say I should do something more productive with my time?
God if you could answer some of these questions/concerns clearly it would be appreciated, and if you could just let me in on the key to my success then that would be awesome too. I don't mind doing the work, I think I've proven that, but if the shit could stop some time soon that would be good.
Amen

My Big Busy Life

Big, bad, busy life.

Well not really bad. It's just very busy for me at the moment and sure it would have been much nicer if the agent my manuscript was with hadn't sent me a no but such is it. Anyway I'm doing pretty good. I don't think I wanted to work with that particular agent. Couldn't really tell you why just a feeling I've got.

Besides I've got so much going on at the mo what with work, the play, the calendar and the short film. Also there is something very possibly exciting that I can't talk about. Rest assured as soon as I can, if it ever gets to that point, then I will. Part of me is terrified of this thing I'm working on and part of me thrilled, excited and obsessed - just a little. Like I really have time to be obsessed.

Work is hard at the moment though. I'm struggling with the conservatism. The music is sleep inducing, the pace at which they tend to work is slow and I still think some of the things they do just don't make sense. My old job may have bugged me on occasion but the people I worked with made it worth it. I don't feel quite that way about this job. I don't know how long I will last at this, there are some good things - the free books for instance, but so often the ones I want don't get Advance Reading Copies handed out. Still sometimes it's the little things that make it worth it.