Addicted to work

My desk actually looks a little like this.

Hello, everyone. My name is John, and I'm addicted to work.

That's what it feels like, anyway. Maybe it's time for a self-intervention.

These last two weeks have been crazy. Tuesday, I started early and worked late. Wednesday, I started really early and worked really late. Today, I had a 9:30 a.m. appointment over in Medford to have my car looked at... and I'll be working late. The weekend is full of work in Eugene and a visit to Portland.

The only upside is that I think I'll finally be able to get to a church on Sunday.

I'm reminded of a handful of conversations I've had over the years about personal boundaries to keep certain things safe. I do a great job of isolating myself emotionally and spiritually, but I'm poor at protecting my personal time and horribly inept at putting boundaries around the time I reserve -- or don't reserve -- for my walk.

This is a problem, and one I have no idea how to fix. As I've detailed before, most of Sunday is spent in a daze recovering from the week that was. On weekdays, I do my best to drag myself out of bed in the late morning/early afternoon, attempt to get some exercise and food in, shower and go to work around three. If I'm lucky, I get home before 2 a.m., and begin the process again.

That doesn't leave time for reflection, and it certainly feels like there isn't time for prayer or reading. And as I sit for the first of four hours at a little Starbucks (yaaaasss) in Medford, I can see three different groups of men gathered here on this Thursday morning and talking about the bible, their faith and accountability.

Three groups. Yes, Lord, I see your point.

But how do I handle it? In Scappoose, God pointed me toward a pastor and friend and we met up a handful of times in the months before I moved. But here in Southern Oregon, everything is fresh and new. I don't know anyone, and hardly have the energy to look.

Maybe things will get easier as I get more comfortable. Hopefully work will slow down once fall postseason schedules have run their courses.

Thankfully, God's plate is capable of holding an awful lot more than mine.

Cats and church

The last few weeks -- six of them now, I suppose -- have been so full of learning, writing, sleeping and complaining about the excess of the secondary and the lack of the latter that I've neglected to post any thoughts here.

Philadelphia, October 2015

Unfortunately, the thing that brings me back is the lack of my presence in a church. The last time I attended was before I left in August.

My stay in Grants Pass thus far has been a good one. The job has become more comfortable, and I've been blessed with a great place to stay while I look for something more permanant, something more of my own. My cat Philadelphia is staying with my parents in Klamath Falls, about 100 miles away, and I've visited her (and them) on a number of occasions.

In other words, more often than I've been to church.

My job has me working long, mentally taxing hours between Friday and Saturday, and I often find myself waking up on Sunday afternoon wondering where the day has gone. The haze and copious amount of Netflix on Sunday leads to another lazy day on Monday, and then it begins anew.

I need to somehow break myself out of this little cycle. I'm not sure if that means forcing myself out of bed on Sunday morning, or if that means I search for something on Sunday evening or Monday, but it needs to change. And it shall.

Stay tuned for more updates. I hope to begin writing more often, and using this blog as an excuse to get out of the house and mingle with... people...

...ugh.