A Temporary Home

After I got my new job, I was excited at the thought of getting back on my feet and moving into my own apartment. I was staying with a friend when I was hired and had quite a commute to get back and forth to work.

 

I had to leave the apartment by 5 am, walk 40 minutes to the bus stop, take 2 busses and travel 2.5 hours every morning, not to mention the commute back every night. I would return to my friends' apartment around 7:45pm. I would rush to shower, eat and be in bed by 8:30 pm preparing to wake up at 4am and be out the door by 5am the next day.

 

The commute was very time consuming and didn't allow time for any extra corricular activities. I no longer had time for exercise or meditation, for ministry or to spend time with my family and/or friends. All I had time for was commuting and working. I'm not complaining, I'm very thankful I got the new job. I'm just saying....

 

After about a month of the treacherous commute, I was finally able to move a little closer to work. I didn't exactly move into an apartment, though. Instead, I was led to move into a hotel.

 

The move to the hotel cut down my commute by 2 hours. There is a bus stop near the front of the hotel and the bus picks up every morning at around 7:10am. The bus stop near my work is about a block away from my building and I am usually off the bus by 7:25am and at my desk by about 7:30am, unless I stop at the neighborhood deli for breakfast.

 

The move to the hotel has allowed me more time to rest and do other things like write, read, participate in ministry and spend more time with God.

 

The hotel is one of those extended-stay types and the room comes equipped with a mini kitchen, a bathroom and a bed. There is a television, a small closet area and a table perfect for eating and writing.

 

I dare not call the hotel home. It is cramped with my belongings and there's so little storage space that I have bags and boxes stacked in corners and hidden under the bed. I'm living out of suitcases and gym bags and all of my clothes are wrinkled beyond recognition. The hotel is expensive, cramped, and the walls are thin. The kitchen is small, it doesnt have an oven, and the toilet runs.

 

As I complain about everything the hotel is not, I can't help but notice every thing that it is. It's dry and safe. I have a place to get out of the rain and lay my head at night. It's cool, comfortable, and useful. I sleep well at night and I'm able to cook healthy and delicious meals for myself.

 

And as far as it being expensive... well, I recall just a few months ago when I didn't have the money to buy anything at all. I'm thankful. Staying in the hotel may not be home, but it was what I needed, when I needed it. Now, I'm prepared to move forward into my new place. A place to call my own.

Excuses, excuses...

I had an entire post prepared explaining why I had not submitted to the blog in a while. The post was all about how I couldn't afford to purchase Internet because I was staying in a hotel and how I was struggling to get a post out.

 

When I started writing this blog, I promised that as I shared my back story with you, I would be honest and transparent. Instead, I found myself making excuses for my absence. Though the excuses were based on actual events, they are just that... excuses.

 

If I were to be truly transparent, I would admit that I had gotten a bit lazy. I got a new job and didn't want to do anything except eat, watch tv, and go to sleep when I got home. I would yell at self every day because another day had passed and I hadn't completed any writings or submitted any blog posts.

 

Yes, paying for internet on a weekly basis was expensive, but there were other options. I could have gone to the library after work or I could have hung out at any number of fast food restaurants and coffee houses to take advantage of their free WiFi. The truth is, I would refuse to do anything other than go back to the hotel after work. No other option would do.

 

I had gotten to the point that even though there were things I knew I needed to do, I didn't want to do them. I had gotten comfortable - the one thing I didn't want to allow myself to do.

 

I had moved out of my friend's apartment and started basking in my privacy. I was so excited to be in a place that I could call my own, even if for just a little while. I knew I would get a little relaxed now that I wasn't living in someone else's home. I didn't mean to get TOO comfortable, though.

 

I did not intend to get into a mindset where the important things didn't matter. I didn't intend to put my life on the back burner. I didn't intend to put my dreams on hold. Now, I find myself playing catch up.

 

I began to experience that feeling that life was passing me by - that I wasn't truly living. But I brought this deficiency upon myself. These feelings were self inflicted. I realized that I don't ever have to feel as if I'm falling behind or as if I'm missing something, because I am equipped with everything I need to live life on my own terms.

 

So, no more excuses. I've been comfortable long enough. It's time to get up and out of my comfort zone and get back to work. It's time for discipline and sacrifice. Is there any other way to success?