Behold, the Power of Oatmeal

It's f-ing cold.

And while my still unemployed self usually reverts to cereal for lunch, it is cold and I would sometimes just go hungry until dinner in order to circumnavigate cold cereal and milk. I know this is super unhealthy for you, I know. But while brainstorming hot, fast, easy meals that did not include fast food, I realized my Dad eats instant oatmeal everyday. Well, my food palette is mildly expanding, maybe I should check this out. I bought a variety pack and have yet to open it. BUT IT'S THERE. I am prepped to try!

I also got conned into buying a set from my favorite makeup brand which led me to be in possession of an oatmeal cleansing face mask. I used to be SUPER uncomfortable having things (including myself) touching my face... and, for the record, I'm still not comfortable with other people touching my face PLEASE DON'T TOUCH MY FACE... Anyway, I also failed epically at my one other attempt at a face mask because my clumsy self forgot that the goop needs to sit there and I'd put my hand in it while brushing away a hair or something. I tried to convince the sales associate that I was just simply too special for a face mask but again, I got conned. Fast forward to a couple of days later because it took me a couple of days to amp myself up, "Ok, Lauren, your skin sucks and it's time to try big girl things and/or things to help remedy the suck of your skin." I applied it, contemplating the new role of oatmeal in my life, then sat at my computer to play games, hoping they would distract me, anddd proceeded to put my hand directly in the goop. There's a heavy sigh (which is recreated as I type this) as I recognize things have not changed and while I may be open to try new and/or girly things, I will never be that typical girl who has not only mastery in these self-care shenanigans, but ENJOYS them... which then means that if I kept up this practice, it will forever be a chore of me trying to NOT touch my face for 10 minutes and then getting water absolutely everywhere as I try to wash the crap off "thoroughly".

Finally, last night, I'm slathering on my ridiculous lotion (as in it works ridiculously well but also costs a ridiculous amount) which is free of everything-- parabens, fragrance, other shit I've never heard of-- and I thought, "If this shit has none of all this crap, what DOES it have that makes it so awesome?" Oatmeal. I mean, special oatmeal but shit you not, I've been rubbing oatmeal on myself. Which just sounds ridiculous when you think of it in that manner.

But that leads me into the main message of my post.

For those of you who haven't talked to me extensively or haven't picked up on my previous posts (as few and far between as they are-- I know, I fail so much at this blogging game), I've been dropping the ball on a lot of my past goals and have been moping around like a disillusioned Eeyore. Side note: if anybody finds a tail, it probably fell off my ass because I pretty much feel like I cannot keep my shit together.

I try to think that I should go back and re-work my Bucket List but the things I'd like to see carried through are intangible and are tough to list as "I'd like ___ done. Boom."

For example, I listed several career-related stuff such as becoming a licensed MFT in 2 two years (which as that takes a minimum of 2 years and I wrote that back in August, file that under not happening) and/or returning to work in the mental health field. I've also written posts describing my disillusionment with my degree. When I read books surrounding therapy, I become exhausted and wind up applying the information to research but when I read for my research, I get amped up, eager to get started on life and my career.

I also have to share this story. As I, again, wrote in the previous post and in my newsletter and have complained to several people and... I spend many moments of my day glaring at my marriage and family therapy degree. Not only because the degree is in Harry Potter-shitting Latin, but because I'm just not happy at all with the degree. Almost as if my incredible hate shifted the paper in the frame, the diploma became loose and fell in the frame a few weeks ago, sending me into a whole new level of "You are just determined to piss me off, aren't you?!" And out of spite, I let the degree sit for another week or two in its frame, mocking me. Finally, I took a deep breath, and pulled the frame down and fixed the paper back into position. I'm sure I cursed the whole time but now the degree is back up.

Earlier today, I was again, getting excited for my career in BDSM and sexuality research and started to consider applying for research jobs in any field, and just abandoning the clinical internships and positions route. In an automatic reaction, I look at my degree for the umpteenth time exhausted with the thought, "Why the fuck did I get that degree?" I continued to read the clinical track book I was required to get for  multicultural class thinking that the educational track people were missing out on some solid information. And it dawns on me-- if I had not gotten the clinical degree that I've been spitefully glaring at, I would not have been allowed to take the clinical track which is encouraged for researchers and research-minded people.

I think that when the degree slid in its frame, it was reflecting the fall my genuine pursuit in therapy. I've been clutching onto these efforts for months because I felt I had to but honestly, it hasn't been whole-hearted because it's not my calling. Many people have admired me for knowing what I wanted to do since I was in high school but I'm coming forth and admitting, I am not made to be a therapist. I am made to be a researcher who knows the reach of research as it is applied in therapy. My education has been therapy-focused and my career will be research-focused with therapy mindfulness and it's with this acceptance of this role, I was able to be respectful of my Harry Potter degree and hang it back in its decent form.

If it wasn't for you, La Salle degree, I'd be sitting here reading some shit on how to educate children and for that, I am extremely grateful.

And with that, I have accomplished an intangible goal: appreciate my therapy degree. No, I haven't come back to a love of therapy, which is what I was strongly hoping for, but I've made it. Through wondering why the hell I'm a high school math tutor with a masters in psychology (seriously, the shit makes zero sense) and opening myself up to the possibilities, I have truly found the oatmeal of life-- those little things that are connected through your existence and you have no idea why the hell they are there until you open your mind to them changing your life and taking you on a scary journey.

Be where you are. Embrace the oatmeal... and then rub it on your face.