"Discombobulated but happy" describes my mental state nicely. I slept until 10:30 this morning, woke up and worked in a desultory fashion until 5:00, forced myself to go to the gym, enjoyed my workout and was glad I went, sat in Borders for a little while and read part of
The Republic and the School (a collection of the writings of Horace Mann, a founder of public education), and then drove home.
Last night, my sisters and I watched the newer version of
Pride and Prejudice with some of the youth group girls. Gosh, they were silly, but I joined right in. It was fun.
You know, I suspect that I am not as broadminded and open to different sorts of people as I had thought. Sure, I talk to everyone, but I realized this evening that there is a subtle difference in
how I talk. It comes naturally to me to ask many people about themselves, but with some I sort of... forget to do that. If I feel uncomfortable with a person and am unsure that they want to talk to me, I don't reach out as much. I think that, if a person seems somewhat hostile to me, I am honestly not as interested in what he or she cares about - their motivations for living, if you will. I am shocked to notice this in myself. I want to love people more, but sometimes it is hard to know how to do it.