There Is Never Enough Time in the Day

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Have you ever noticed that no matter how much we try to organize, schedule, and cut out the fluff, there still is never enough time in the day? I am a wife, the mother of two teenagers, the servant of a household of cats, the companion of a dog with boundless energy, a freelance writer, and the cook, maid, organizer, and (oftentimes) krazy glue of our home. It doesn’t take long before the end of the day creeps up on me (or in this case of this past week, the dawn).

All the time management experts offer tons of tips on how we can better utilize our time every day. They claim that if you organize your life and find the areas where you are wasting your time, you will eventually have plenty of time during your day. However, I don’t think they were talking about stay-at-home mothers who also strive to work from home and who love to bite off far more than they can chew.

It doesn’t matter how much I reorganize and cut; there simply isn’t enough time in a 24-hour period. I almost never get to watch TV. I don’t play video games (except a little online or phone app play as the occasional break). Every time I am on the phone, I am doing a million other things. I even try to limit my social media and internet time these days. And sleep? I’m definitely nowhere near overdoing that!

I multitask my multitasking. I eat breakfast and lunch while I am doing something else. I scrub with both hands. I wash dishes and laundry simultaneously. Without running myself ragged and driving myself crazy, there is no way I can squeeze any more minutes out of my day. It just isn’t humanly possible.

Yet, I don’t mind so much. I do hate when I don’t get everything finished on my daily to-do list. I’m a perfectionist and love to push myself hard. However, I can’t complain too much. My life is full and happy. There is never a dull moment.

To be completely honest, I wouldn’t survive most days without a healthy dose of prayer and plenty of help from the Lord. However, I still wouldn’t have it any other way. I love my family. I love the life that God has blessed me with. I certainly still have much to learn about patience and prioritizing, but overall, I love working hard for my family and challenging myself daily to grow closer to the person the Holy Spirit is leading me to be. I thank God every day to be alive, and I hope to never take a single new day for granted.

© 2020 Amanda R. Dollak

There Is a Phantom in My Mailbox

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I have been haunted by a phantom for well over a decade now. Her name is Angela F. Dollak. I have been receiving her junk mail for about 15 years. Her evil junk mail has managed to follow me to two new addresses. I have tried fruitlessly to explain to the senders that she doesn’t live with me–and may very well not exist. But the junk mail keeps coming.

Yes, you heard me right. There is a huge chance that this woman isn’t even real. I have done internet searches on her. All I can find is that she is from my hometown, is 38, and lives with me. First of all, I am related to every single Dollak in my area. Odds are certainly in my favor that I would know this individual if she were a real person. But second of all, she does not and never has lived with me. Having an extra person in the household would definitely be impossible to miss.

So, I am left with the mind-numbing question of who IS Angela F. Dollak? And how in the world did she get attached to my identity in the first place. Oh, and how did she then follow me to two new mailing addresses when no one notified the post office that she had moved with us? Is she my evil alter ego? Is she an extra curse from junk mail purgatory? Is she simply a glitch in the system when someone misread my name?

I would love to know. But unfortunately, I have no idea how I would ever find out. Most likely, Angela F. Dollak will remain a mystery. She will forever be a phantom filling my mailbox and occasionally haunting my online presence. I guess some mysteries in life never can be solved.

 

© 2020 Amanda R. Dollak

Senior Citizens Are People, Too!

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I recently came across an internet meme this week that basically said that if you are over 65, you should no longer be allowed to vote — simply because it won’t be your future you are voting for. This is preposterous! I am hoping that this was just one of those things that goes around the internet simply because it is so cringe worthy that some people think it’s entertaining.

However, a part of me is skeptical. I have seen a lot of discrimination and criticism over the years towards older people, so it wouldn’t surprise me if there are actually plenty of people who believe such nonsense. I may only be 36 now, but one day, in the not so distant future, I will be over 65, too. And so will these critics (if they are so blessed).

So, am I to believe that just because a person becomes a senior citizen, he or she suddenly has no life? No future? No worth? People are actually living longer and longer these days. I, for one, have many friends and relatives who are well over 65. And I love and cherish each and every one of them.

These friends and family members don’t have useless lives. Their days aren’t spent locked up, dwindling away, and waiting for death. On the contrary, they live active and purposeful lives. They may be a bit slower now and a little worn around the edges. But they are still people. They still have so much to offer this world. They still have hopes and dreams. They still want to help others and to make this world a better place.

It is ridiculous and reprehensible to think that some people believe individuals could outgrow their fundamental rights as American citizens and as human beings. Just because someone is more advanced in age than another, it doesn’t mean that his or her life is less valuable. What has happened to respecting our elders and seeking their wisdom? Have we grown that ignorant and lost as a nation that we are beginning to forget how valuable and irreplaceable our elders truly are? I shudder at the thought! We need some serious help as a society if we continue down this treacherous and dark path.

 

© 2020 Amanda R. Dollak

I Have a Where’s Waldo? Brain

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My brain is a crazy place. It is jammed full of memories, TV, movies, music, books, knowledge, and oodles of trivia. Consequently, my imagination has an endless well of ideas to haunt me both day and night. My dreams have been especially crazy lately. They have been stuffed full of so many details — many which have no logical connection — that I’m left in total bewilderment when I finally wake up. There’s nothing like waking up with that ‘huh-what-just-happened?’ feeling day after day.

My husband, who wonders if he even dreams sometimes, has a hard time comprehending my intense and cluttered dreams. And for the longest time, I’ve struggled to put the nature of these dreams into terms that he can understand. When I try to explain my dreams to him, he grows increasingly confused. Eventually, his eyes glaze over and his mouth just kind of hangs open in sheer astonishment. I don’t think anyone remotely normal can handle the circus that is my brain.

Yesterday morning, I awoke having one of these crazy dreams again. There was a visit to Grandma’s house, barbecuing, a classic car show, children’s games, frogs, turtles, foxes, elves, armor, huge bonfires, ballad writing, a gigantic army, and an epic battle. After waking up from such a busy dream, I couldn’t help but feel exhausted!

This time around, I tried to explain to my children what it is like in one of my cluttered dreams. And once again, I was left struggling to find the right metaphor. Then, out of the blue, a realization hit me: my dreams are often like being in the middle of a Where’s Waldo? scene. Yes, that describes my cluttered dreams perfectly! Both are total chaos with a thousand unrelated things going on in a small space. With both, my mind tries desperately to absorb and make sense of it all, but there are still bits and pieces I overlook or miss. And with both, it is exhausting work to finally find the important thing/person in all the mayhem. I honestly need a nap after having one of these dreams!

Have you ever had a dream that felt more like an illustration out of a Where’s Waldo?  book than an actual dream?

 

© 2020 Amanda R. Dollak

Ancient History Holds My History

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An increase in my fibromyalgia flare this week has cleared up my schedule for some solid TV time. It has given me the opportunity to relax and to rediscover the wonderful world of TV streaming and an old love: history documentaries. (With how hectic and busy my life has been lately, I’ve had little time for watching television for months.) No, I can’t say I’m enjoying my little “vacation” from my busy daily life. I’ve actually grown to love this new chaotic norm. Besides, no one in their right mind wants to be stuck on the couch or in bed much of the week with their entire body feeling like a giant toothache.

Still, I am enjoying watching history documentaries that I’ve never had the chance to watch before. The whole experience is bringing back so many wonderful memories. I know, I just mentioned that I’m watching documentaries I’ve never watched before. So how could they possibly be conjuring up happy memories? Well, it is quite simple really. They remind me of my late father and all the great times we shared watching history programs..

Even as a little girl, I loved to sit with my dad as he watched these documentaries. I never was bored, as you might expect, because he always had such contagious enthusiasm and a unique perspective into the past. I could sit with him for hours after the TV was finally turned off and listen to his stories and his thoughtful insights. Long before I thoroughly understood the idea of history, I grew to appreciate and love it and couldn’t get enough! He especially made me fall in love with the ancient world and for many of my childhood years, I passionately wanted to be an archaeologist. I longed to study the past with my own bare hands.

Now all I have to do is open a book or turn on the TV to reopen my own past. When I continue to learn about ancient cultures and events long forgotten by many people, I can still see the sparkle in my father’s eyes and still hear the excitement in his voice. Ancient history holds my history and keeps my dad’s memory alive even though he has been gone for over 9 years now. And I know it will continue to do so for the rest of my life.

When two people share the same passion for years and years, it can never be forgotten. That bond stays strong and alive for as long as at least one of them continues to live — or even longer if passed down to the next generation. Both of my children share my love of history and enjoy hearing me share about my dad’s love of history. So, with each story I retell or each documentary we watch together, my father’s memory is glued even further into our lives. Perhaps this love of history will continue to be passed down through our family’s future generations, and my dad’s legacy will continue to live on long after I myself am gone.

 

© 2020 Amanda R. Dollak