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Most people work about 40 hours a week, right?

I work about 40 hours a week. But I am so tired all the time! I work five to six days a week. Today, yesterday, and the day before I had doubles. The two days before that I opened. These are contributing factors, to be sure, but most days I don't even work a full 8-hour day. Yet I am sooooo tiiiirrreeed.

I don't feel like I can or should say no to work. I feel like I should always work harder and faster and more. No matter how big my bank account gets, I feel like I need more money. I have become more greedy in the past few months. Having money has made me want to be stingier, instead of more generous.

I forgot about living slowly. A friend reminded me the other day. He was telling me that I should not make an important decision in a big rush. He said that doing things in a hurry is not what I am about. It stopped me in my tracks. I'd forgotten. How did I forget that in just a few short months? How did I forget that I am not about rushing and busy-ness and being always moving and always stressing and always running? How did I become this nervous, high-strung, can't-relax person?

How did I fall for the lie that my value is in how hard I can push myself, how much control I can exert over myself?

I think that Lincoln is slipping away from me; friends are moving and I am feeling restless more often these days. I tell people, as an explanation for why I'm still here, "I love my job." The other day my friend Laura wrote,

I mean really, what else are you staying in Lincoln for? A job? Is that really how you want your life to be? "I love my job"? B&C is a great place, but....don't get stuck. Don't settle.

She's right. I am a waitress because I wanted a job that wasn't life-consuming, yet here I am with my life being consumed by my job. And it's not their fault. It's mine, for not saying no, for not cutting back, for thinking that if I'm not killing myself I am not doing enough. It's my fault, because I have invested myself fully in a job instead of in a life: mine.

In five days, I am going on a trip. I reserved my rental car, and I am going to Arkansas. This morning on NPR they said that Arkansas is where the hog-calling champion of the world lives. That's good, because it means there must not be much to do there, right? I am determined to take it easy. I want to sleep, a lot. I want to breathe deeply and spend a lot of time with my eyes closed. I am going to laugh as much as possible. There will be peace, and laying in the grass, and reading books, and letting go. I will do so many good things in Arkansas, and I will do a lot of not-doing as well. I must let go, and contemplate, and find my center again.

Then, if I can find the peace I know is still inside me somewhere, I will find what I am supposed to do next.