How Long Should I Wait?

Such a common question in everyday life, no? How long should I wait until the cookies are done, how long should I wait for the water to boil, how long should I wait for mom to get home, how long should I wait to drink this coffee so I don't burn my face off?

Inevitably, waiting sucks. Whether it's for food to be ready, for a parent to return your phone call (because you could be dead at this very moment, but they'll just get back to you when they can), for the apocalypse to happen, or even for ice cream to fall from the sky. Patience is just too dang hard. Even just typing out that word takes forever. P. a. t. i. e. n. c. e. (That was even worse cause I had to put in all those spaces and periods and everything. Yuck.)

So if waiting sucks, why do we do it?
In my eyes, I see it like this: The longer you wait for something, the better it will be.
*cue the twinkly lights and sparkles drifting off in the wind*

Seems pretty reasonable, right? The longer you wait for your pizza rolls to be done, the better they'll taste in the long run. The longer you wait for the coffee to cool down, the better experience your taste buds will have, rather than a burning to their death. The longer you wait for the dye in your groovy new tie-dye shirt to soak, the better the colors will look.

So if the longer you wait for something, the better it will be, how does that pertain to falling in love? And yes, I am talking about the cheesy movies about how the giggly girl and her high school crush reconnect at a ten year reunion and decide to get married, because they knew they were meant to be. And also the ones about strange coincidences that magically happen but in no way could happen in real life (like running into each other at a weird location and figuring out that each other already has a significant other but now that they see each other with each of their significant others they want to be with each other rather than their significant others...right?).

To be point blank, I think it's worth it to wait for love. Because the longer I wait (which hopefully won't be insanely long), the better it will be, and the better it will be, the more worthwhile I'll feel  after playing the waiting game.

I have almost a sixth sense about love, which is weird because I've never experienced it with a male being at all. I've only been in one relationship before, so you wouldn't say I'm experienced, but I do have an eye for what I'm getting myself into. Many of my friends have poo-pooed my standards for the perfect guy since my list seems to go on forever. But I think it's good to have standards because you won't look for something less. I want values and morals, confidence and dedication, humor and consideration, and trust and understanding. Doesn't seem like such a bad list, eh? Well they all have underlying parts to 'em, so HA. (Also, perfectly straight teeth would put it at the top of the top. But hey, looks aren't everything, right?)

But basically, I think things are always worth the wait. I've been so patient for so many things and I'm even still in the process of some waiting games. Making friends, finishing college, having a career that I love, making ravioli from scratch someday (it's on my bucket list), and even living on my own with a cat (yes, that's a goal, don't judge).

So moral of the story: Wait. Wait as long as you can, but maybe not as long as you want. Because there's a life to live and you should just freaking live it, since being tied down by worries in the back of your head is just plain dumb. We all do it but we all have a choice on how to deal with it.

Be patient, guys. It'll be worth it. I promise.

How College Life Consumes Your Inner Self

Now I know you're looking at that title like, 'Um, wow. Sounds like a pretty dangerous place.' And it is, but don't let that get you carried away with thinking that all I'm planning on talking about is you being eaten by a big school. Cause I'm not.

You see, I've only been in college for a little over two months. That, to me, is almost enough time to make a judgment on life here and what kind of bumpy rollercoaster it really is. It's not that I'm poo-poo-ing college and all that it offers, cause it really is a nice place. All I'm saying is that when you get here, you're not ready. You might think you're ready, feel you're ready, and even make posters saying you're ready, but newsflash: You're not. Nobody is. You can't be ready for everything in life. That's why people get thrown under the bus (figuratively, not literally) right off the bat cause they don't understand unless they're THROWN.

I remember the day, let alone the week, before I was shipped off to Collegeland. It almost felt like I was ignoring the fact that I would have to live on my own with a giant, three-wing building full of strangers. As I spent short minute after short hour with my family, I felt like there was a little monster in the back of my head screaming, "This won't last, Maddy! Your family life will never be the same! You can't be this happy ever again because college will make you a different person! You better let this soak in! Don't be crabby and sad now, don't be crabby and sad!" As much as I wanted to ignore the stupid monster, I obviously couldn't. And that was proven when I bawled the last of my frustrations out the night before going on my adventure of a lifetime. (Or is it FOR a lifetime...?)

As annoyed as I was, I knew that although change isn't my favorite thing in the world, I had to take the leap someday. So emerging into the university lifestyle for at least the first week or so was about the most dreadful time for my anxiety levels. New living space, new school, new room arrangement, new room size, new people, new non-familiar faces... All I saw flashing in my face was NEWNEWNEW YOU DON'T KNOW ANYONE NEWNEWNEW YOU ARE IN A PRISON. Which obviously sucks as a first impression, let me tell ya. But again: Being thrown in.

Once school finally started, things got much easier. I knew even beforehand that it would be the thing to calm my worrisome self down. And I know you're reading that sentence again saying to yourself, 'Waaait... Whaaat? School? Calming her down? Is she crazy?' Well, mostly, yes. It's just that school has always been such a structured, familiar environment for me. I love school. I've always loved school. And it actually took me until this present year to figure that out entirely. Wanting to be a teacher for such a long time in my life has been a big contributor to this affection, and I owe a lot of that to the schools I grew up going to. Dedicated teachers, people who made me feel like learning wasn't such a burden, and students that strived harder than the average fifth grader to write the best summary about the most boring book in the history of the universe. Those were the people that brought me here. Those were the people I wanted to be.

Since being here, I've noticed that if I'm not spending time on homework or hanging out with my best friend, I'm absolutely lost. Like, I lose all sight of everything that's ahead of me. For some reason the college life has just done such a good job of masking the sadness and confusion I still feel about learning and about the course of life, and it's starting to uncover itself again. I really do want a lot out of life. But the sad part is, I'm realizing that what I'm wanting out of my life is becoming what I'm expecting out of my life.
I have like a mental picture that I keep seeing with me happily dressed in a pencil skirt with a button-down shirt, babbling away to a classroom of children about the different ways to do long division. I have another of me walking into my house and hanging my jacket up on the coat hanger, only to be embraced by my foreseen husband. I have a third of me hugging little children like I want to squish the little love and dreams out of their ears (in a good way). I also see me walking down a long aisle of pews toward the man of my dreams, waiting anxiously for me, ready to profess his love for me and mine for him in the loving arms of God.

I see all these visions, I make up all these stories, I picture all these events, but should I be allowed to expect things like that? To have a happy life that's so shining and bright that even I can't comprehend its glory? Is that really all I want out of life? A family in communion with the Lord? Because that's really all I need, right? Because without God, I am nothing.

I am absolutely nothing without Him. Even if I don't feel Him here always.

But hey, just be free. Have visions, have predictions, have hopes and dreams. Just don't expect them. Cause as time goes on, you lose sight. Of life. Of love. Of the future. You won't see anything at some points. Just an empty jar.

You see, college life may consume your inner self, but your inner self doesn't have to let it.