Dreading the Ordinary

It is 12:33 am and I cannot sleep. Why? My eye continues to twitch. Why? I’m stressed. Why? The future.

Why?

I struggle with what my life will look like after I strut (and probably trip) across the big stage and receive the piece of paper that cost me thousands of dollars. I know, I know, I have so much time, so why am I stressing about it now?

I don’t know.

I’ve heard from numerous sources that worrying solves nothing. While I believe that to be true, I just can’t seem to apply that mantra to my life. I think I’m afraid that if I don’t think about it now, the future will sneak up behind me, and I’ll be left scrambling around trying to figure out what to do with my life.

So, why not worry about it when I can do absolutely nothing about it now?!

Sounds like a blast and a half!

I think the thing that scares me the most is that not having big, crazy, adventurous plans for the future makes me think that my life after college will end up being mundane, ordinary, and, well, boring.

Let me explain…

My fear in growing up is falling into the category of a plain old adult. I mean, it just doesn’t sound too grand, you know? Waking up, going to work, coming home, crossing items off my to-do list, going to bed too late, and waking up too early the next morning only to do it all over again. It sounds like that’s the typical “adult lifestyle,” and I’m scared of the dismal routine that will very likely get the best of me. I guess I’m afraid of being ordinary: the average Jo[sephine].

I don’t want to waste my life, and I think sometimes I associate that with being “ordinary.” Everyone says growing up sucks, and I’m starting to believe them. It seems as though there becomes a significantly less amount of things to look forward to.

Will I find joy and contentment with being ordinary? I mean, I’m already falling into a slump during what’s supposedly the “best four years of my life,” (which is a little phrase that I have a couple of issues with) so what makes a few years from now any different?

I’m hoping I’m wrong. I’m praying that I’ll learn to be extraordinary amongst the ordinary. That I would be satisfied in weekends that are filled with laundry, yard work, and taxes instead of friendship, laughter, and adventure. That I wouldn’t let the ordinary become ordinary, but that I would learn to keep things fresh, new, and exciting.

Yeah, dropping the kids off at soccer practice and rushing home to cook [burn] dinner probably isn’t adventurous or exciting to say the least, but maybe it will force me to find adventure amidst the mundane.

But will I?

I’m not sure, but I’ve decided that there’s hope for me.

There’s hope because I’m not living for these bland and sometimes repetitive tasks. I’m living for a cause that is life-giving and a purpose that is life-changing. And that is what makes even the ordinary extraordinary.