Hard to wake up...

I admit, I'm blogging from work. Not a big fan, but I am having such a hard time waking up that I figured I would try to jump-start my brain. I also only feel like dusting my desk. We need some swiffer wipes around here.

While we're on the topic of work...it's going wonderfully. I'm still enjoying myself and also enjoying making a to-do list at the end of every day, of things that are accomplishable and also impactful. It's a good feeling. Not a good feeling is the thought that now that 53 is being torn apart by woodfield, thus removing all express lanes, my commute to work from Bloomingdale, home of my new and lovely apartment which I can JUST BARELY afford, will be gas guzzling. (How do you spell that?) I don't even care about the time, I care about the pure gold called gasoline that will be basically dripping out of my tank, all over that thing we in Chicago call an "express" way. Nothing express about it at the moment.

I think I have SAD. Seasonal Affective Disorder. I have always had it, and I have it all year round. If the day is rainy, my productivity and conscious thoughts must be cut literally in half. It is now 9:30 in the morning and the streetlights are still on, because the clouds are so thick that it's barely light out. I think I need a UV light here at my desk.

Let's talk about something sunny. On Sunday, I got baptized. Yea, it was a randomly not random thing. I've been thinking about it for months and months, mostly since I was in Londrina and 3 people asked me when I was baptized (isn't that a strange question to ask someone?) and then were appalled by my answer. I hadn't even thought about baptism until I went to Harvest 2 1/2 years ago and saw some and heard a sermon about it. I couldn't believe that I hadn't set foot in a church that preached about baptism until I was 20 years old. So, after 20 years of rhetoric that told me about infant baptism, it took a couple years to re-wire. I was a little angry about it because I felt like, especially in Londrina, people assumed I wasn't a Christian if I hadn't been baptized. And that is incredibly frustrating. However, thanks to other people (Joaquim, Janell and Alex) who were incredibly patient with me and never pushed me an inch on the subject or in any way discounted the relationship I have had for years with the Lord, but just told me "well...you gotta get baptized. Think about it..." I thought about it. And I decided in December that it was going to happen, I just didn't know when, or where. In Londrina, I would have had to take a 6 month class, called Verdades Básicas. I was "taking" it while I was there, but only 15 out of 20 lessons, and I was really just sitting in, so that didn't count. At Lar, Joaquim taught a baptism class and since I didn't do that, that was that. And I didn't WANT to take a class about baptism, or about basic truths. I didn't like the implication that my lack of being dunked under water suddenly rendered me very immature and unknowledgeable. So, that was why this Sunday at Harvest when Pastor James MacDonald said "you don't need a class, just get up here" I was interested.

More than interested, I knew it was definitely the time. My heart would have flown out of my chest and just thrown itself into the water if I hadn't taken my body with it. So for people who were like "what, you got baptized? Hey, cool!" or for my Lutheran family who may be thinking, "yea, I remember when you were baptized on August 18th, 1985...I was there..." it was a process of 6 months where I dug through my heart and prayed a lot about this. And Sunday just opened up an opportunity that I couldn't wait for.

It turned out to be incredible timing, as can be attested by a prayer made in São Paulo on March 2nd, that I was unaware of...but that's really a story for another time.