I have this fear, and I’m sure we all do – that we are going to run out of adventures and slip ignominiously into the boredom abyss. To stave off this looming possibility I decided to sign up as an Uber driver.
I signed up a few weeks ago actually, almost by accident because it was so easy. I wondered if I could and before I knew it, I had. Not that they don’t vet their drivers, because they do. But it takes a matter of minutes instead of the days that usually pass when you want to be cleared for something.
I took my first rider the next day, just to see what it was like before I left to visit my daughter. I took a nice tourist 10 miles south to visit a friend of his. It was the briefest of exposure to the Uber app but enough to make me think “I can do this. I can.”
Now, more than three weeks have passed, my Mom has gone back to the north woods, and Uber has started sending me messages asking why I’m not driving and hinting about my partner account being at risk (AAAAGGGHHH!!!) They call it an inactivity alert. Of course we wouldn’t want that to happen, so I went driving yesterday. All day. I’ll show them.
It’s slightly addictive. It’s like the feeling I get when I’ve just published a post and am waiting for reactions. The phone starts ringing and flashing. I get such an adrenaline rush. I have to accept that invite. I have to see who wants a ride. I have to get out there and sit in long lines of slow moving traffic.
No, wait…
I thought I was used to the long red lights at intersections. Here in Florida, probably no where else, the traffic is horrible, horrible, horrible in the winter. The weather is nice and that’s why so many people are here, in their cars. But now, the red lights seem much longer, like maybe half an hour when I am trying to get quickly to a passenger. And maybe even longer than that in cases like tonight when five teen-age boys were giggling and snorting over something on their ride to Shake ‘n Steak, in my car.
I won’t get rich driving for Uber (more about that later) but I’m already finding it adventurous. Can’t wait to write about the experience as it progresses… just sayin’.
Evidently there are other desperate adventurers in the area…
I was very tired last night. I fell asleep in the chair watching tv and decided it was crazy to waste sleepiness on a chair. I would go to bed where I so often wish I was sleepy and am not. I got ready for bed and got in, turned out the light. As I was lying there and my body was getting numb to it’s surroundings, as I lay quietly behind my closed eyelids waiting for sleep, I suddenly could not remember whether I was in the chair thinking about being in bed, or in bed thinking about being in the chair. Weird things happen in that space between awake and asleep.
The worst part was, I had to get up and go write down what it was like because I knew I’d forget it if I didn’t. By then I was wide awake again and stayed up too late like usual. The mind is a crazy place, just sayin’…
They were friends. She didn’t know why it happened and she hadn’t really asked for it. They had moved in to the house where her new friend apparently had lived sometime in the past. Let’s call the new friend… call her Kitty.
She knew Kitty hung around, a lot. Most of the others ignored her or actually shunned her. But she hung around outside a lot too and that’s why she and Kitty got used to each other to the point of toleration. She didn’t look for Kitty, ever, but Kitty evidently kept an eye out for her and came running whenever she came out the door. As she walked around the grounds she had a companion at her side. When she sat on the deck at the top of the stair, Kitty sat with her.
Although they didn’t have a lot in common, except the time they spent together, that was enough. They became a pair, a pair of friends.
Sometimes I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing. I wonder if the reason my life is filled with routine, sometimes mundane activity is because I’m not a good enough tool. Maybe I wasn’t listening when instructions were being given. Maybe I was playing spider solitaire or watching tv? Maybe I was over invested in my to do list for the day, or riding my bike to allay my worries about hypertension. Maybe I just didn’t want to sit and write about something I had learned or felt – something that might have brought hope to someone desperate for a word.
Okay, I’ve come to recognize this train of thought. Left unaddressed, it gathers force and eventually has me sort of despising myself for not being something greater than I am. I could wallow in it, but don’t have time. I could go talk to a counselor, but don’t have that kind of money. I could talk to God…, yeah, I actually do that. Today it went like this.
“Help me. This angst and unrest is insanely uncomfortable. I know you wanted me to solve the world’s problems, lol, instead I’m not even solving my own. Should I be able to do something more than this?”
It occurred to me in the middle of this that God is probably able to put me where he wants me. Indications are that he likes it when I give him credit for that. So I started thinking that way, and it felt right, good. Felt true. I also read from him – it’s something he told someone else, but it’s a principle that shows how he does things.
It also records the response he got which was not so great.
Whoa! Could I be doing that? I’m told to be quiet and trust and instead I’m having none of it and looking for some action? I’m going to worry about it and figure out what to do? It’s pretty ridiculous, but it happens when I forget who God is and who I am and how different we are.
I thought about this, off and on today, and my conclusion is that I want all the quietness and rest God wants to give me. Bring it on. I want to be alert and ready, but content, storing up that strength I’ll probably need later. This is one of many answers to personal cries for help, from God’s word to my intellect, resulting in a kind of peace.
What does this mean in a world that doesn’t believe in a personal, relational spiritual Creator who works with people for their betterment? God could easily say to this culture “but you would have none of it”. We fit the picture, just sayin’…
I seldom rant and even in doing so I will try to be kind – but this is the way it is. If you rent for any length of time, from anyone, please pay attention. And to be fair to Jasmine, this is not just about her but a compilation of several experiences renters have given me – the not-so-good surprises that I talked about here in “Are you still coming?” post which was Landlord Rant #1. This is meant to help you renters get that space you want.
If you want to impress a prospective landlord positively with that first phone call, be prepared to ask some intelligent questions. Could I suggest ones like “How much is the rent?” and “What do I need to move in?” “Do you accept pets?” “Are utilities extra?” “Is there a lease?” The answers to some of these will determine whether you should ask for a showing and may save you and the landlord a lot of time.
If you make an appointment to see the rental, keep it and be on time. Please!
And if it’s not simple and something comes up, use your cell phone and call to reschedule. Life happens. If you don’t make that call, you’re not going to get a second chance – at least not from me.
Be honest on your application because I am going to check it out. If something needs explaining, just explain. Don’t lie.
Complete the application. Yes, I want to know how much you make because if you’re spending 99% of your income renting my unit, I’m pretty sure we are both going to be in for a hard time. It’s for your good too.
Don’t be afraid to let me know your circumstances. I may be able to help you even if I can’t lower the rent just for you. Remember, you don’t know my circumstances (like how I’ve been underwater on this investment and been paying people to live in my unit for seven of the ten years I’ve had it…).
If you know other people will be living with you, include them in the preliminaries so I can know them as well as you. Disclose them in the application, please.
Expect to sign the lease before you move in. This was the last lesson I learned as a landlord when my compassion got out of control. The lease has important protections in it for the renter as well as the landlord and is just a good idea.
Stay in touch until you know whether you are a renter or not. Answer phone calls. Show your interest by communicating.
There is no #10. Read through the above 9 suggestions again, and hope you are never a landlord yourself.
I am a landlady, a female landlord in other words. I never intended to be one as a long term occupation, but time flies and it has probably been fifteen years or more now. It is not a job for the faint of heart and there is much to learn.
Almost everything that comes along in the way of landlord business is a surprise. Once in a while, but not often, the surprise is a good one. More often, it is not. Over and over, I find myself being disappointed in people. By supplying them with living space I get a front row seat to how they live…not always pretty.
Today I had a 2 pm appointment to show my almost vacant apartment. One thing I have learned is to call people if they are not early and remind them. So I called Jasmine to remind her at 1:55 and judging by the noise in the background she was still at home with a house full of kids. She was “oh so sorry” and wanted to see it badly so asked me to wait, maybe 20 or 25 minutes. An hour and a half later I am still waiting and feeling, well, like a fool. At least I finally have time for a blog post.
First of all, I know that this day has taken on new meaning in our culture mostly because of business and marketing. How completely wrong that there are people who will feel sad and less valued because they didn’t get a bouquet of roses or some candy or a card (from someone who felt obligated to do it whether they wanted to or not…).
Although both of you lovely women might get a gift or two, you both also feel a lack in your life when it comes to the relationships our society idolizes. I want you to be able to see through the hype thrown at you, that sneaks in and lingers in the shadows in your mind – that voice that says…
you are less,
you are flawed,
you are boring,
you are not ready,
you are never,
you are not…
In reality you are beautiful young women who are brave enough to be alone if need be. You are proving it by being alone now. If you were less strong, less committed to your ideals, less in tune with who God made you to be, you could be in a so called “relationship” even now. But getting a gift on February 14th doesn’t necessarily mean you are truly loved with constancy, faithfulness, sacrifice, and without conditions. No love on earth gives you that line up.
Meanwhile you have a treasure trove of people who love and value you for who you have been, who you are now and who you will be. Even more important you have a Creator who knows you better than all these others and who knows the shortest route to your ultimate happiness. Hard to believe at times? Yes. But you are on that route – it’s called life in Christ. It’s marked by lessons in trust that are often hard and seem never to have an end. But you will be taken care of in difficulty and you will benefit from each and every hard thing and they will create an even more beautiful you. It happens faster when you realize that’s the purpose and get to that place of gratitude.
Happy Valentine’s Day daughters, and remember…
You are more than you sometimes feel you are.
You are on your way to perfection.
You are fascinating.
You are ready for whatever is next, with God’s help.
You are always in His view and his planning.
You are a daughter of someone called The Eternal “I Am”.
It is cold chilly here in Florida today. We get a few days like this every year and although I like to be able to go outside without breaking into a sweat, I often use the temperature drop as an excuse to stay inside more. But as I’ve written, I’ve been riding my bike lately and have actually been knitting a hat to keep my ears warm during my morning adventures. I’m going out, cold weather or not. I am encouraged and inspired by a blogger I’ve started following at www.bikelikecrazy.com. My five miles in the sunshine doesn’t measure up to her daily 10 mile commute to work in snow and ice (yes, she does that).
I’m also thinking a lot about my imagination, which needs exercise as much as my body does. It is a good thing to be totally present in the here and now, which is where I feel I have been for quite a long time. Doing life, dealing with its circumstances and spending time with the people accessible to me, has been my focus. Writing about life takes time and imagination, and has not been my focus. I haven’t been writing. The few things I’ve cranked out have been a struggle and I’ve not gotten much satisfaction from them. I’ve told myself that this is probably a stage to be expected. I should not be upset with it, but I should expect it to pass.
So, in my imagination I am writing a book, a very satisfying book. It begins with people living ordinary lives, but with a sense of calling or higher purpose. This sense carries them through difficulties of all kinds, and grief unspeakable at times. This sense frames their everyday activities in a meaningful way. It makes them examine every relationship with others with a keen eye as to what might be happening. The enduring quality of this “sense” means it is picked up by their children, and their children’s children.
Some of this I do not have to imagine because it is contained in the diaries and personal letters of my ancestors. I am thankful for their attention to recording what they experienced. The things they have written have made a difference to me – one person, many generations later. The thought that one person in the future might be encouraged by something I write is reason enough for me to be diligent. My imaginative effort does not have to include fame, book deals and sequels in order for me to want to do the work. However, it also doesn’t hurt to imagine those things since they are pretty safe there and it gives me practice not fearing them.
Someone in times past was inspired to write “now to the one who can do infinitely more than all we can ask or imagine according to the power that is working among us”. I think that inspiration came from a God who wanted us to imagine not just mediocre, impoverished imaginings, but big, creative and challenging ones. Practice in doing that is what I need, and a good time to do it is while I’m on my bike.
When do I really get serious about taking care of my body? I’m asking the question because I really don’t know. So many years have gone by when other things came first on my list. There was only so much time and other things were urgent. And didn’t I get enough activity in the course of daily living? I wasn’t a couch potato. I lifted, pushed and pulled, walked and ran and stood up most of the time. I had a young body and it took care of itself (because it had to).
Time has changed a few things. Specifically, my blood pressure is higher and I think it’s having effects on other systems, like my vision. I don’t want to start medication and deal with all those side effects, and of course, there’s the problem of my hating to swallow pills which I avoid by never remembering to take them. But I can exercise. Walking would have been my first choice but after feeling a few twinges of pain in my right knee, I’ve switched to riding my cheapo bike.
Because I am on the way to being more serious about exercise (I’m not totally there yet…) I give the bike ride a priority place in my “somewhat retired” daily schedule. Morning, right after the gate to the nearby mobile home park opens for the day, I strap on my fanny pack, turn on the health app on my phone and get going. It’s a fairly safe place to bike a large loop and not surprisingly, I am one of the fastest things moving on the road.
Biking in the mobile home park reinforces my desire to take care of myself seriously. There are lots of people there who are trying to be active. Many of them have been “not serious” longer than I have judging by the fact that their exercise consists of riding to get coffee and donuts at the clubhouse in their golf carts. The other bikers I see are usually stationary, talking to their neighbors. Lots of people are walking but it’s the kind of walking where you can hold hands with your walking partner and take long looks at scenery. And today I saw an elderly woman, probably the most serious exerciser I’ve seen there in a long time, who could barely stand upright and had a decided list to the right. But she was moving as best she could. Every time I think, “get serious now or this is the next version of you”.
I’ve had people (the husband) say “well, you’re not getting much exercise riding a bike here in Florida where it’s flat”. But they are wrong. First of all, it’s not flat. I know there must be some kind of incline when I ride east. I imagine there might be one riding north as well (because north is “up” on the map). And then there is wind resistance. Pushing air is exercise and don’t let anyone tell you differently. It’s true that wheels make moving easier but they don’t move by themselves – as evidenced by the husband’s bike which has not moved an inch in months. I push hard and go fast and I feel the burn.
Which brings me to the part where I challenge myself, to keep it interesting. My health app SHealth, Shea for short, is my co-conspirator in getting serious about my health. In fact, she nags me to the point of irritation. I’m always being asked if I want to record my sleep, or add a meal. And she gets downright bossy when it comes to exercise.
Yeah, just be more active yourself!
Shea gets on the job when I’m biking and talks me through the whole painful process, starting with a little five second countdown. At each mile she announces my progress and tells me how long I have to keep going to reach my goal, which is five miles, at my present speed. Behind the scenes she is mapping where I’ve gone and the places where I’ve gone the fastest. And in a world where I will take any little bit of encouragement I can get, I love hearing her sweet voice at the start of the last half mile “Almost there – you can do it.”
Today I broke a speed record with my fastest ever average of 10.6 mph. I found out that several of my gears actually work and I really booked it (going west, remember the incline) which brought it up, along with the fact that I didn’t have to wait 5 minutes to cross the highway before getting to the gate. If I get much faster I’ll have to leave the park where the limit is 15 mph.
I sweat when I bike so don’t tell me it’s not a workout, and do encourage me to keep it up. It only takes half an hour and I’m breathing hard the whole time. It’s better than a pill for my blood pressure – certainly doesn’t have as long a list of adverse effects – and it does make me feel a little more serious about taking care of myself. (But it doesn’t mean I’m not looking for a used golf cart. Those things are handy.)
I Just Have to Say... 