Rob is a coworker of mine at Target.
He stands out for being ever so slightly weirdly interested in my well being.
It is both gratifying to have somebody ask "how's it going" and actually expect a genuine and fully explained answer, and just a little bit creepy. Over all though, he's a nice enough guy.
(Most of the time.)
However, a few days ago he asked me how my spirit was doing.
(Why yes, those WERE his exact words, apparently my spiritual well being concerns him greatly, although I'm still unsure whether it's because he thinks I'm going to hell or because he kinda wants to sleep with me.)
((Actually, that question would apply to several coworkers of mine....))
And I told him I was feeling somewhat burned out because all this various stuff that's been going on.
So he asked me what I was doing to restore my spirit.
And I rather rolled my eyes and thought how he's just this dumb 19 year old kid who has no idea how much of my life revolves around day-to-day survival and that getting an uninterrupted shower is as restored as I get.
But he wouldn't drop it.
And he wouldn't let me laugh it off or just not answer.
He wanted to know.
And so eventually I actually thought about it, if for no other reason than to get him to shut up.
At first I had no idea what I would do to restore my spirit, or even what that truly meant beyond trying to go to sleep before midnight.
But then, it came to me as I was writing a blog post.
I write. I blog. This right here. This is how I restore my spirit.
And sure, part of why I was feeling so run down was lots of stressful things going on and very little sleep and no personal down time.
But I also hadn't been blogging like I normally do!
See, blogging (even the marginal quality and often rambly stuff I throw up here most of the time) takes time and energy and there are days where I just don't want to do it or opt for sleep over internet or simply can't think of anything right then.
But the process of writing down whatever is bouncing around my head is amazingly cathartic for me.
Writing itself helps me organize my thoughts, putting it down gets the ideas out of my head, sharing it with all of you gives a level of daily social interaction and support I desperately need, and seeing my life accumulate into this amazing online document that other people (albeit few) actually care about as well is surprisingly gratifying and almost makes my little life feel validated somehow.
So Rob, thank you for actually helping me. Despite being the damn punk kid that you are, you might even have had a tiny clue of what you were going on about that day.
AND I wrote you a poem!
A dashing young fellow named Robby
Once asked what I do for a hobby
I told him I blog
He was rather a hog
And asked why I don't write in more poetry