Stubborn

Was I a stubborn child? 

I'm not really sure. I have wondered this many times as I have moved through this crazy existence, but never have I really realized where I stood on the issue.

When one is called stubborn it is frequently used in a derogatory manner. I have decided that is not what it is meant for at all. Here begins my quest to explain how stubbornness can benefit the wise. Or just benefit me. 

Cut to Summer 2015. 

I was working at Walmart in Cedar Hills. This was a temporary job, as I would be going back to school in the fall, so I was coping with where I was just fine. One fateful day/couple weeks, my supervisor realized I was the only person under her who had had no disciplinary actions taken against them. This could be for some obvious reason. For example: I am attentive to detail, I work hard, I knew what I was doing, or at least wasn't doing anything wrong. Instead of sticking with this line of exceedingly logical thinking, my supervisor proceeded to search for reasons to "coach" me.

Excuse me? No. 

This began to wear on me very badly, as I was doing the best that I could every day to go above and beyond the call of duty and I was still being kicked down for doing so. This went on for about two weeks. I was miserable. Everyone I spent time with could tell. My parents were very concerned, and even tried giving me suggestions, but "this was a temporary job and I could stick it out." (Hah)

I had been running myself ragged for a little while when suddenly, my supervisor came to me during my shift and yelled at me for something I had not done. This was the last straw. For me and my body. About half-way through said shift I became very ill and almost threw up multiple times. This is when I was found in a corner of the back room by a very concerned Manager. This woman looked at my pale and sweating self and sent my butt home to recuperate. 

Wonder of Wonders, Miracle of Miracles!

As soon as I was out of the building and safely on the road home, I began to feel better. This is where the correct stubborn kicked in! 

As soon as I was home, and had explained my sudden appearance at the house to my mother, I got on my laptop (with ginger ale and GF toast as my sword and shield) and proceeded to apply for and call about six jobs. SIX! I was done with that job. 

I must have made a decently respectable effort on the applications too, because I got calls for 5 of them. I took an interview the next afternoon, and I was out of Wally-World by the end of the week.

My father looked at me after all of this and said, 

"When you get irritated enough you kick it into high gear and you get stubborn. When that happens, nothing at all can stop you."

Nothing at all can stop you. That is one of the best connotations of being stubborn, I have ever heard! 

This kind of thing has happened multiple times in my life. I was always afraid of being called stubborn, but looking back, it has mostly been for good causes. 

My interest about this was piqued tonight as I sat, mildly moping, in my room. I was upset about recent events and was unsure of how to go about feeling better. I have been sad for about a month now and I wanted that sadness to end without malice and without anger. I had become irritable about my own attitude. So, I chose stubborn! It has been a friend to me in the past.

Yet again, I was being stubborn and feeling sorry for myself. "Oh, I never go out. I don't see people as much as I'd like to. I don't meet new people. My plans have fallen through. I'm emotionally distraught." Today, I decided finally to stop that. I got so irritated with my own pathetic attitude that I stepped up and said, "No. You are a strong, independent woman. You are free, white and over twenty-one. You don't need no man!"
(please imagine this said by a sassy Octavia Spencer from "The Help")

Thus, here I am with a newly organized room, a happier outlook on all my responsibilities, a nice bowl of Cheerios, a plan to meet new people, and A SMILE ON MY FACE!! 

NOTHING AT ALL CAN STOP ME! 

I guess after all is said and done, I am me, and I am OK. 

I want all of you to know that no matter how battering the storm may get-no matter the trial-nothing at all can stop you. It doesn't matter if you are a stubborn person at all. You are a person, and you deserve to have all the happiness you choose. This is what matters.
So never let ANYTHING stop you! 

Oh Happy Day!

Adventure Is On I15

This weekend I decided that it would be a fun idea to go home on an unplanned visit. My father had no idea I was coming, and my mother thought I would not get there until evening. I showed up on my back porch Friday at noon and proceeded to have a lovely weekend! 

I rode around in my sister's convertible. I went to stake conference with my father. I did a ton of fun things! I had so much fun this weekend, that I chose to stay at home until Monday morning. I had nothing going on until about 11 AM. (being a Grad student is nice that way) So, barring some tragedy, I decided that I had plenty of time to get back for school and still spend another evening with my family.

Monday morning dawned bright and beautiful as I began the last leg of my adventure. Little did I know that my adventure would bring me so much. 

I was a mere 30 miles from my destination of Cedar City, Utah (after driving 3 hours), and I was having a grand old time. I was singing along with my brand new Barbra Streisand CD and munching on Baken-ets chips, when suddenly tragedy struck! My dear, lovely, wonderful little Baja *thunked*. Now, if you know anything about cars, they are not supposed to *thunk*. They definitely are not supposed to start smoking profusely either. As I pulled my vehicle to the side of the road, I turned the radio off and started to wonder how to deal with this problem. 

Once I arrived at my new destination of 
I15 mile-marker # 86, 
I realized that my engine was not making a peep. There was no gentle lovable hum. There was no sound at all. This was bad.

Little bit of background information: I am 22 years old. I don't like driving long distances by myself. My parents were both at school. And I had NO idea whatsoever of what to do in this situation. I have never had a car break down. I have never seen my parents cars break down. 

This was very new. 

I proceeded to call both my parents to get assistance in what the heck I was even supposed to do now. Meanwhile, cars are zooming past, caring nothing for my panic. I FINALLY got ahold of my mother and (scared the crap out of her at work) received all the necessary guidance for this new bout of fun. 

I called the insurance people (hoping this would not affect my rates) and found out that I get one free tow! Thank you Mom and Dad for having this insurance! I could wait for a tow truck! That would be fine. Then the operator told me that I had approximately a 90 minute wait.

This was at 10 AM. I was going to miss all the things. So, to remain calm (while sitting in my toasty vehicle on the side of the freeway) I proceeded to call professors and anyone I would possibly need to notify. After this so called fun I got out of the car and decided to brave the terror of opening the hood. I knew I couldn't fix anything, but I wanted to at least see if the problem was something I could see. Ever seen the aftermath of shooting multiple cans of oil? Neither have I, but I have a pretty good idea what it would look like. There was oil everywhere in there! No way I could fix this. 

My car essentially had the flu and threw up all over itself! 

This is when I realized that the tow truck was going to take me to my apartment. What on earth was I going to do with my sad little sick car there? This conundrum was solved with the old standby of "Phone A Friend"! Luckily I have "car people" friends and friends with tow straps...these friends were not the same person interestingly enough. 

----Two Hours Later----

I was finally picked up after sitting in the hot sun for two hours, and taken to my home. 

I will now skip the anecdote of towing my car to the shop and the silly looks I got when I told the man there that my car had, indeed, *thunked*, smoked, and looked like a vehicular slaughter case.

----This Brings Us to Today----

I received a call from a kind man at the shop. He literally asked me if I was sitting down. 

(I may be emotionally attached to my car) 

Diagnosis of the problem: My sunny little truck threw a rod. 

Apparently if I go down to the shop they can show me what this means. I was told that my engine literally has a huge hole in the top of it. My engine has exploded. 

So it's not just the flu. My car has to have a heart transplant. Ok. 

More life experience!

Oh Happy Day! 

(I hope that you have enjoyed reading this story. I am trying to blog again. This could be interesting.)