"I like being slow"

While it's only near 3:00 here today, a lot has happened thus far.  Or maybe my mind is just ticking away trying to find things to write about because my fingers feel like typing.  

I need to take a test (soon) to be certified to design green/sustainable buildings and interiors.  The book I need to study costs over $200 so I contacted my work to see if they had an extra copy.  It turns out the office only has one copy but they were making photocopies for everyone because the whole office wants to have this certification.  They told me I was welcome to come by and pick up a copy.  Great!  This was the perfect opportunity for me to "practice" riding the trolley.  I begged Dustyn to go with me and he agreed.  I should mention now that we were supposed to meet a girl named Jamie at Gensler around 9:00 am.  

Dustyn and I planned our trip to downtown with the SD Commute website and had an idea of when to arrive, where to go, etc.  What we weren't aware of was how much it would cost, how we were supposed to pay, and if we needed cash or a credit card.  We left our apartment at 8:00 and began our walk to the trolley station; the website informed us that the walk there should take approximately 16 minutes.  We were walking along, realized we didn't have cash if it was necessary and decided to pop in the McDonald's because they typically ask if you want cash back, or so we thought.  Nope, they don't do cash back.  Dustyn informs me that they probably have a really easy way to get tickets and we should just head to the station.  We walk on.  

I should say, we slowly walk on.  Somewhere along the way, Dustyn informs me that I like to take my time walking and that I walk slowly.  It became a big joke, especially when Dustyn said, "Hon, they surely don't calculate the amount of time it takes to walk to the station based on your speed."  Nice.

We finally arrive at the station, read the signs, and find out that of course the ticket machines do not accept credit or debit cards yet.  Yes! Way to go us for walking past the Costco, Lowe's... and every other major store that probably does cash back.  We needed to buy a day pass, and for the both of us, that amounted to $10.  Dustyn had $6 in his wallet.  Since I walk so slowly, I stayed at the library while Dustyn walked to Costco to get some cash.  He finally returned, we boarded the trolley to head downtown.  Remember I said I was supposed to be downtown around 9?  Well, it was already after 9 by the time Dustyn met me back at the library.  Good first impression for me.

The trolley ride itself was quite enjoyable.  There was a brainiac 14 year old kid on the trolley who was headed to college summer school.  Nope, no social skills whatsoever.  We had a man attempting to get on the trolley as it started moving.  There was a big ordeal because this man had evidently just been released from the hospital.  And then, there was actually a woman who carried a shovel onto the trolley.  For what purpose?  She was quite loud and obsessed with Pearl Jam and Tina Turner.

I wasn't really going to mention anything about the visit to Gensler because the trip was quite brief, but I did remember two instances that were a little humorous.  I was given a set of copies to copy in the work room.  That's fine, no problem.  I go to the copier and start copying away.  A lady comes in and says "hi" and then proceeded to ask if I was their summer intern.  Woo-hoo for looking 12 years old!  The copier only jammed three times while I was using it.  But I suppose this makes me an expert because another guy walked in and asked me about making color copies on it.  (Either he was  new or just doesn't attempt to operate heavy machinery... my guess is new because he copied his drivers license and social security card.)

Speaking of social security cards... I realized that I would probably need mine on my first day of work.  The entire trip back to our apartment, I tried to conjure a mental picture of where I packed my SS card.  I dug through my purse and couldn't find it.  But, I did find two rebate checks.  Sounds exciting, right?  Except that they expired 7/7/08.  Check the date that I'm writing this blog.  It's 7/8/08.   I began to laugh uncontrollably as Dustyn glared at me, then lectured me about how my first responsibility should be to deposit the check immediately when he gives it to me.  I couldn't stop laughing.  I simply told him, "Dustyn, if I hadn't been searching for something in my purse, you wouldn't have known that those two checks had never been deposited."  It took him a long time before he calmed down and found the humor in the expiration date being yesterday.

Back to the social security cards.  I never found mine.  I searched through every box, hiding place, security deposit box in our apartment when we got back, and I could not find that stinking card.  I decided I had no time to waste, I would have to forge my way over to the SS office and apply for a replacement card.  Dustyn had to log in to work, so I printed out the necessary papers and headed over.  Along the way, I reminisced about how busy the Austin office always was, and couldn't imagine what the SD office would be like since we were 15 minutes from the Mexican border.  I was expecting long lines with people needing their 9 digit number.

Sure enough, there was barely any parking, and the line was ridiculous.  I was at least the 20th person in the room.  Sigh.  Instead of finding a lot of people that needed to apply for a number, I found a lot of army soldiers.  For those of you who don't know, SD is a huge base so it's not uncommon to see soldiers.  After sitting in that office for two hours, I realize that I learned a lot about that particular group in the SS office that day.  They were loud, boisterous, and basically felt like they, above everyone else waiting, deserved to be served first.  This really began to eat at me.  I honor and respect our soldiers; they protect and serve this country and I wholeheartedly believe they deserve to be acknowledged.  I don't, however, think they are privileged.  

These men continually talked about how much money they make, how much money they're allotted on a daily basis for food, how many houses they've owned and sold for profit (you know the whole crazy expensive housing market in California).  I could understand that yes, they do indeed need some amount of "luxury"; their job is not the most glamourous.  It was until they decided to approach one of the workers stations and cut in line that I began to be frustrated.  Here was an entire group of people simply waiting to be served, and these guys approached a woman and asked to be served.  They were aware of how the process was working; they had been in there for at least an hour and a half along with me.  The lady didn't really know what to say; she didn't want to be disrespectful, but obviously she knew that the order had just been broken.  Everyone in the room became distressed.  There were two big muscly, work-out-a-lot men behind me that weren't too thrilled that they had been overlooked.

I don't know, I guess I just don't get it.  I think in my head, I expected soldiers to be humble people.  After reflecting, I think it can go either way.  They can be humbled by what they've seen and had to experience or they can be selfish and eager to be treated as a hero.  We have a family member that's in the army (or military or ... one of those) and he's not pompous or greedy at all.  I'm not saying that all soldiers are.  This is just an observation based on today.  

I think this whole idea is applicable to life in general though.  There are often times we want to be acknowledged for what we've done and we seek gratification.  It's so important for us to remember that it's not worldly acknowledgement that we should be seeking.  We need to be living fully to honor and please God, doing things in accordance with God's will.  I am definitely a person that should feel convicted by all of this.  I feed off acceptance and knowing that I've done something well, made someone happy, and having something to celebrate.  I need to start praying that I can live less for me and more for Him.  Let the glory be His.

Okay, new and final topic.  Dustyn and I are going to go to a Cardio Kick class tonight with Santy (yes, that's his real name).  We've been once and it was... not easy, to say the least.  If I'm incapable of writing for a few days, it's probably because every nerve in my body is shot.  :)