Sandra Gibbons

Sandra Gibbons

lives in beautiful Northwest Arkansas. She writes about parenthood, lessons learned, and creating moments of happiness.

Indifferently Drained

Happy Hump Day.

I’m exhausted and forcing myself to write. It’s been over a week and a half since I blogged, but I’m just absolutely drained right now—and that’s okay. Work has been pretty enjoyable with this system testing contrary to what I had expected, and seeing as how today was my last day working with this larger group, I’m actually kind of sad. I’ve met numerous people who relocated here in NWA from India and Germany and just all over the country, so it’s been a great learning experience working with them, as well as a great networking tool. Lots of talent and capability. It’s really opened my eyes to new possibilities I could pursue when I’m ready. Since my last entry, I’ve been reporting to a large controls room of another building in the Walmart campus, so it’ll feel weird returning to my own desk and workspace, at which I really haven’t spent much time. I ended up having to cancel my campus gym membership before it even started because of the schedule conflicts I’d have. Every class I wanted to take was too early or too late or during the middle of the day, which I know I wouldn’t be able to get away to attend… so whatever. On a positive note, I’ve been doing A LOT of walking while working here these past 2.5 weeks—so I don’t feel that bad. Plus, I’m back to eating healthier and more balanced, so I’m feeling well, too.

I’m just really bummed out lately that I’m mentally tapped out and too tired to do things I love. I haven’t painted in what seems like forever, but I am being proactive and setting a small goal to do it on Sunday. I started a poem a couple weeks ago, so maybe I’ll get it done the weekend after next. I haven’t read anything but news articles in the early morning hours, so I’ll have to find a way of working a book into my new routine. Just blah. Absolute blah. It’s a battle to stay true to myself while working for the biggest company in the world, but I’m optimistic that things will calm down soon enough and I’ll find some hidden energy reserve I’m in dire need of. Just takes time. It always comes down to precious time.

Outside of working, my personal life is pretty stagnant. I haven’t visited my mother in weeks. I miss my sisters and nephew… my poor dog misses my company, too. I try to love on her extra hard at night. :o]  But yeah, uneventful. Valentines Day is tomorrow… I could care less. I don’t want to deal with crowds and traffic and all this commercialized BS—irritating.

For now, I’ll just keep taking it easy. Spartacus is back on Friday nights… The Walking Dead is on Sunday nights… Kick ass. I get my first paycheck this week and my tax refund is being deposited, too… so maybe I can treat myself this weekend on top of putting a big chunk of it into savings. No stress for me, just overpoweringly sleepy-eyed.

If anybody even reads my blog and you’re a friend of mine, I’m really sorry for not keeping better touch. Yes, I’m alive. I just need some space and time. I’ve been thinking about turning 28 literally every single day and it’s hard to be patient and just accept where my life is at this point. I wanted to be married, and I wanted to have children—and I wanted to have a good career together, but none of those things exist for me quite yet. Sometimes I think I’m too demanding and have ideals and expectations set for myself which are too high and demoralizing, but I can’t help it. And it only fortifies with the passing of time.


When forty winters shall besiege thy brow

When forty winters shall besiege thy brow
And dig deep trenches in thy beauty’s field,
Thy youth’s proud livery, so gazed on now,
Will be a tattered weed, of small worth held.
Then being asked where all thy beauty lies,
Where all the treasure of thy lusty days,
To say within thine own deep-sunken eyes
Were an all-eating shame and thriftless praise.
How much more praise deserved thy beauty’s use
If thou couldst answer, “This fair child of mine
Shall sum my count and make my old excuse,”
Proving his beauty by succession thine.
      This were to be new made when thou art old,
      And see thy blood warm when thou feel’st it cold.

William Shakespeare

An Infernal Shower

Carpe Diem