What a busy week...
Yup, tons has happened, and nothing at all...all at the same time.
Well, Saturday wasn't quite wasted...but it came to a huge halt right after breakfast and tv watching...just after noon. I decided at that point that I'd had WAY too much caffeine, so I hopped back into bed to get some rest and sleep off the horrible, horrible shakes. (note to self: DO NOT drink 3 cups of tea in succession, not pretty).
I had already passed into a lovely dead sleep when my phone rang and I sat up and grabbed for it. If it had been the name or number of someone I’d recognized, I probably would have continued to let it ring and gone right back to sleep. However, there is something about an unknown number that invokes in me a strong desire to answer the phone no matter where I am or what I’m doing. Two thoughts go through my mind when this occurs…first, maybe it’s an emergency, someone is calling me from the hospital or worse I’m their only phone call from the police station…secondly, whoever this person is, they won’t leave a message and then I’ll never know who called, or what they wanted, or if they’re going to jail (because that makes sense, not leaving a message if you’re in jail).
I answer the phone, now extremely shaky from waking up so fast and still with the caffeine surging through my veins. “Hello?”…worry and sleep in my voice. It’s friends of my boyfriend. My first thought (which is spoken out loud), “How did you get my number?”…which I go on to answer myself (also spoken out load), “Oh, never mind, M gave it to you.” (DUH!)…Then my other line rings…OH MY GAWD…another number that I don’t recognize, except that it looks almost like the one that I’m still talking to…hold on a sec I have to answer the other line…and who is it, but the other person in that house, I’m speaking to her on one line and to him on the other…now I feel like I’m going a little mad. We sort out that they are both talking to me and he hangs up. She explains that their car has died and they were wondering if I had cables and if I would mind giving them a boost. My head screams, “Noooooooo Don’t do it…you’re wired, you’re tired, and you -really- don’t want to. “Sure, yeah, no problem.”
Now this is me…of course I want to. Yes, I would much prefer to climb back into bed and pretend the phone never rang, letting my heart rate slow back down to it’s caffeine-resting state. But when anyone cries out for help I ALWAYS want to help. I have this inborn desire to reach out to others in pain or distress (or both). People in my life that I am close to I will reach out to them without them asking for assistance…often becoming more of an annoyance than anything else…but -really- wanting to help. To others in the world…those I don’t know or don’t know well, I wait for them to ask for my assistance.
Living in this city the hardest thing for me is passing the people begging for money on the street because they are asking for help. However, I cannot afford to give them all money and it wouldn’t really be helping them. So I continue to walk by with a depressed “…sorry…” not able to look them in the eye.
Is this desire to help people a good thing or a bad thing? Is this something that I should try and control? Are there times when offering assistance is wrong? Very seldom do I stop while driving. I often see an accident or a stalled car and think, “I’ve got a cell phone, it might not be much, but I’m sure it will help”. But in the big picture, stopping the car to help is along the lines of waiting for someone to ask. If they really needed help they would flag me down, right? And yet, for some time after I pass, I think about them and worry that I should have stopped.
And all this begs the question. ALL of these people are not my problem, it could be argued that even my friends, until they ask, are they even my problem. Why do I allow myself to worry and stress over people I don’t know or people that haven’t asked? What is it inside of me that twigs each time something like this occurs.
Gosh, it sounds like I’m tooting my own horn here. Look at me, the girl who cares so much, whose heart is so big…but I don’t really have anything to toot, do I? What do I actually do, but let these things eat me up inside? I don’t do any volunteer work. I don’t give much to charity. I claim to care so much but why? What benefit am I getting out of it? Does it make me feel better about myself?
*sigh* Believe it or not, this started out as a positive vein of thought. Not so much, eh?
Time to go back to work…
Well, Saturday wasn't quite wasted...but it came to a huge halt right after breakfast and tv watching...just after noon. I decided at that point that I'd had WAY too much caffeine, so I hopped back into bed to get some rest and sleep off the horrible, horrible shakes. (note to self: DO NOT drink 3 cups of tea in succession, not pretty).
I had already passed into a lovely dead sleep when my phone rang and I sat up and grabbed for it. If it had been the name or number of someone I’d recognized, I probably would have continued to let it ring and gone right back to sleep. However, there is something about an unknown number that invokes in me a strong desire to answer the phone no matter where I am or what I’m doing. Two thoughts go through my mind when this occurs…first, maybe it’s an emergency, someone is calling me from the hospital or worse I’m their only phone call from the police station…secondly, whoever this person is, they won’t leave a message and then I’ll never know who called, or what they wanted, or if they’re going to jail (because that makes sense, not leaving a message if you’re in jail).
I answer the phone, now extremely shaky from waking up so fast and still with the caffeine surging through my veins. “Hello?”…worry and sleep in my voice. It’s friends of my boyfriend. My first thought (which is spoken out loud), “How did you get my number?”…which I go on to answer myself (also spoken out load), “Oh, never mind, M gave it to you.” (DUH!)…Then my other line rings…OH MY GAWD…another number that I don’t recognize, except that it looks almost like the one that I’m still talking to…hold on a sec I have to answer the other line…and who is it, but the other person in that house, I’m speaking to her on one line and to him on the other…now I feel like I’m going a little mad. We sort out that they are both talking to me and he hangs up. She explains that their car has died and they were wondering if I had cables and if I would mind giving them a boost. My head screams, “Noooooooo Don’t do it…you’re wired, you’re tired, and you -really- don’t want to. “Sure, yeah, no problem.”
Now this is me…of course I want to. Yes, I would much prefer to climb back into bed and pretend the phone never rang, letting my heart rate slow back down to it’s caffeine-resting state. But when anyone cries out for help I ALWAYS want to help. I have this inborn desire to reach out to others in pain or distress (or both). People in my life that I am close to I will reach out to them without them asking for assistance…often becoming more of an annoyance than anything else…but -really- wanting to help. To others in the world…those I don’t know or don’t know well, I wait for them to ask for my assistance.
Living in this city the hardest thing for me is passing the people begging for money on the street because they are asking for help. However, I cannot afford to give them all money and it wouldn’t really be helping them. So I continue to walk by with a depressed “…sorry…” not able to look them in the eye.
Is this desire to help people a good thing or a bad thing? Is this something that I should try and control? Are there times when offering assistance is wrong? Very seldom do I stop while driving. I often see an accident or a stalled car and think, “I’ve got a cell phone, it might not be much, but I’m sure it will help”. But in the big picture, stopping the car to help is along the lines of waiting for someone to ask. If they really needed help they would flag me down, right? And yet, for some time after I pass, I think about them and worry that I should have stopped.
And all this begs the question. ALL of these people are not my problem, it could be argued that even my friends, until they ask, are they even my problem. Why do I allow myself to worry and stress over people I don’t know or people that haven’t asked? What is it inside of me that twigs each time something like this occurs.
Gosh, it sounds like I’m tooting my own horn here. Look at me, the girl who cares so much, whose heart is so big…but I don’t really have anything to toot, do I? What do I actually do, but let these things eat me up inside? I don’t do any volunteer work. I don’t give much to charity. I claim to care so much but why? What benefit am I getting out of it? Does it make me feel better about myself?
*sigh* Believe it or not, this started out as a positive vein of thought. Not so much, eh?
Time to go back to work…
posted by PrincessDoubt @ 1:31 p.m.
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