I am afraid of work. I don't mind moving furniture, scrubbing toilets, writing papers, traveling, cooking, making a book, taking pictures, selling clothes...I can do all of these things well. What I am afraid of is actually the phone. Calling people on the phone...people I have never met. Asking them questions, trying to talk fast enough that they don't hang up or have time to think of anything other than what i am telling them. Hoping they will want to buy my talk, but more afraid that if they do buy it, they will ask me something I can't answer. They will tell me I am worthless for calling them and hang up. No, I have no reason to fear talking to these people...they may hate me, but they'll never tell me that, because I live in the south where manners supercede logic. But I still feel nervous each time I pick up the phone and hear the expectant dialtone. The toll of death... then I know I must push the numbers and wait nervously for some secretary to answer and tell me that I can't talk with whomever I am calling because I am a salesperson (they're in a meeting, can I send you to their voicemail?) and they are paid to keep me out. Like a phone roach, I am an unwanted dirty pest that no one can get rid of (not even congress) Bah to me...

Death

The spiders have now, for the most part, experienceed it. Where are their spider souls wandering right now? Who really cares...I am certain it's not heaven or my house, so that's all that matters. OR, if it is heaven, it must be in the special spider section of heaven. Although, these creatures have to be resultant, after the fall.

Fall...my husband loves the fall. I have never been a huge fan, I would rather roast forever beside a blue swimming pool in the hot Georgia sun. But, I love watching him love things, and so because he loves fall, I now have a growing affection for it. My mind is boggled today by the presence of fall on my front porch. Wasn't it just the other day that I was married?? Has it really been a year? How is it that time is going more quickly for me than it is for my friends? We experience the same 24 hour days; yet, somehow time is rushing by so for me that I can't even relate to my college friends. Their time is spent leisurely and needless of sleep, that it doesn't even resemble time to me. Or perhaps it's the other way around.

It's the stupidest reason, really, that I am even thinking about this. But I must share it because that's what blogging is all about. This morning in the paper, I was perusing the week's events and perchanced upon the Brumby (a college dorm) beach party. I remember going to that party my freshman year of college and running into this guy David Talley, whom I had met a few weeks prior at my orientation. I remember when I saw him, wondering if he would even remember me, because so much time had passed since our last meeting. How funny. That was five years ago. It feels like a few months. It wasn't a particularly important moment in my life, either. Nothing like the birth of my child, which was less than two months ago and feels like a lifetime. Here is my life, flying away like my favorite season, which I swear never lasts all three months. Is it the mercy of God? That the pace of time is just slow enough to cope with, but quick enough to nip at my ankles and make me zealous for a full life. At the same time, this same passage brings me closer to my eternal home.

"And if I weep, may it be as a man who is longing for his home"