Soup for the Soul.

Some days, you just need a soul lifter. To do something that makes your soul smile and warm up. Lately, I've been feeling like I've put my soul on the middle freezer shelf, where it's been sitting for a few days, cooling and slowing reaching closer to freezing.

Okay, that sounds a bit drastic but you get the picture. 

Lately, I've been feeling this overwhelming sense of being stuck. I'm in limbo, almost through it. I've been working 4 doubles a week for almost 2 months now, and while that doesn't sound like a long time, boy I can tell you it is. 

This morning, I got to review a new bacon shop. It's a sandwich shop dedicated to bacon and I have been pretty excited about this. But it wasn't the free coffee and bacon that made me feel good. 

Not what I'm drinking today,
but I got my first Peppermint Mocha
over the weekend. Heaven.
Let the holiday's begin! 

Instead of getting up at 5:30, I slept till 7. Instead of rushing at the gym and having to chose between running only or running a little less and squeezing in some leg and arm work, I got to do it all (and the sun was up, whaaa?!) Instead of rushing my breakfast I took my time, and made a grocery list, too! I took a long shower and had time to do my hair. I got to watch the morning news, which I enjoy, and did some light reading. By the time I was leaving the house, I felt more like a person and not a drone.  

Now I'm sitting in a coffee shop, writing this, eating my free bacon sandwich and contemplating what life will be like when I don't have to get up early anymore. I think today was good for my soul.

It's funny how something so simple can make you feel so much better. 

What things make you feel better when you're feeling over worked, upset or just plain tired?

With Your Head Down.

Over the past few and a bit, I enjoy my walks. Whether it was walking to work in New Haven or walking to the subway now, I enjoy moving at a slower pace. It gives me more time to look around and take things in. I've also noticed that it allows me to observe more of my surroundings and get to know where I am better.

It wasn't until the other day, however, that I noticed a trend.

When I'm walking somewhere new, down a new street or taking a new way to work, or even on a stroll with Jake, I'm always looking up. I like to look at things around me and people around me as best I can. But the occasions where I'm walking somewhere familiar, I walk with my head down. And not just looking down. I've noticed that I walk with my head hanging down.

After a little reading on the subject, I've learned that my head down means I have self confidence issues and don't want to be looked at. Interestingly enough, both of those are true. While I'm slowly getting more comfortable with myself and accepting me for who I am, I still face self confidence issues and no, I don't really like to be looked at.

Another article says that walking with you hands in your pockets could mean you are unhappy with how you look and, combined with your head downs, means you're unhappy. I walk like this frequently. I put my hands in my pockets because it's cold, or so I thought. Could this mean that subconsciously I'm more unhappy that I know?

Today, I was walking down the long hallway at work back to my desk and I noticed that I was passing people and 99% of the time I have my head down. I started making the conscious effort to have my head up, smile and look at people more. I'm such a social being. I thrive on being social and having friends. Has the past year and a bit or moving a lot and being in places where I don't know people turned me into a recluse?

How do you walk? What do you think it says about you??

Immigration.

Recently, I had an experience that made me think twice about judging people.

I went to the Canadian boarder to apply for my work permit. In order to get my work permit, I have to supply proof that Jake and I are in a common law marriage (which means we've been living together/in a relationship for at least one year). We consulted an immigration company and thought we were prepared.

Source.

As I stood in front of that immigration officer. I felt a lot of weird feelings. He was only a little older then me (that or in really good shape). He kept looking at me in the eyes and I felt like he was staring into my soul. Even though I obviously wasn't doing anything wrong, I felt like I was trying to hide a brick of heroine under my jacket or smuggling kidnapped children in the trunk of my car. He was sitting there, looking at what I could gather of my life on paper and straight up judging me.

It was the strangest sensation, trying to prove you're who you are to a complete stranger. I stood there wondering if I had enough proof that I am who I am and that Jake and I's relationship is the real deal.

In the end, I did not get approved. The officer said there wasn't enough proof. It was oddly devastating.

Part of me wanted to ask him "do I look threatening? What kind of fraud do you think I'm committing here?" But I didn't. I have a bad habit of saying shit like that and getting myself into trouble.

I cried as soon as we got in the car.

Now, a few days later, as I'm thinking about it, I know I got off easily. I think about all the people who are truly going through hard times getting into Canada, America or any other country with heightened security. I think about all the people who are coming over country boarders illegally, who are facing harder tasks then I am.

It put a lot of things into perspective.