always waking up tired

Wow, it's been a while.

I, like some other people, hate making resolutions for the new year about how I'm going to do such and such a thing more or less and I think for at least the first half of 2014 I have an excuse as to why I'm not being friendly to the loyal readers of this blog, but that's probably just making excuses and I'm usually not one to rely on excuses to get forgiveness.  So for now, I'll just say I'm sorry that I haven't be more consistently entertaining (or time-wasting, whichever you read this for).

This post is about sleep.  Or lack thereof.  As you can tell by the time that this is posted, it's at a time when most people should be asleep.  But I am not.  I went to bed earlier this evening and then woke up about 1.5 hours later, fully alert and ready to take on the evening.  I wish I could say that this is the only occurrence of this and the rest of my nights of sleep are great quality.  Some of them are, but recently, many of them haven't been.  I wake up after about 1.5 hours and can't get back to sleep immediately.

So I went to the doctor.  Who referred me to a sleep clinic.  Where I went last week and had a sleep study completed on me.  Long story short, it was a lot of sensors and tubes hooked up to me that didn't make sleep come any easier that night.  The literature suggests that your body gets used to all the stuff attached to it after 10-15 minutes.  Yeah right.  I slept that night, but I'm doubtful it was quality sleep, but supposedly any sleep is enough for them to tell you information.

I find out the results in the new year, so it should be fun.

But for now, I will attempt to return to the land of the dreamers.

change: addendum

Here's a little addendum to the last post "everything's changing"

About 2 years ago, I posted a general update on here and wrote the following:

"I know that some things will change - some by plan and others as things run their course. Some things may happen because I want to do something differently, and others may drag me kicking and screaming into the unknown."

 Little did I know that 4 months later that would be happening.

That's all.

everything's changing

"The only certain things in life are death and taxes."

This quote strikes a nerve on someone like me, who desperately hates change.  I'm a man of routine.  I like my safe places and familiarity is my friend.  Robin notes that when it comes to the end of a vacation, she's sad that it's over and wants another 51 weeks of it, I'm looking forward to the end of the abnormal and delighted to be able to step back into my routine after the relative chaos that was my time off.  So with this in mind, enter the past 18 months.

On January 2, 2012, I figured everything would continue along as it was and I was relatively happy in the complacency of my routine, a reasonably well-thought out routine that had been the norm for 6 years.  Little did I know that on January 3, 2012, I would get a swift kick in the behind that not only forced my out of my Monday to Friday routine, but set a course in motion that would mess up the rest of my routine as well.  This was chaotic.  I was a ship adrift at sea without any power or oars, floating in whichever way the wind took me.  Finally, I caught a current that led me to Toronto for work, but that meant I had to change my weekday routine to wake up before 5 and go to sleep before 10, although some may argue that I'm an old man and like going to sleep early.  My evenings were shot and my weekends were full of spending time with those who I couldn't see during the week.

Finally I moved to Toronto to start a new routine, for what I figured would be 3-5 years.  Very quickly I learned that living in Toronto isn't all that great, despite what those who live in Toronto seem to think.  It takes forever to get anywhere, there's no social life when you have no friends in the area, it's hard to find a church when you're in Waterloo visiting your family and friends every weekend.  I desired the stability and comfort of knowing I was living in a place I could consider home, but this change wasn't necessarily for the better.

After a year of working in Toronto, I made a decision that would effect my future here.  I proposed to Robin.  But with that came the need to fulfil a promise to her that I would not sit in my complacency of hating change and would begin to job search - something that I have never done while holding stable employment.  It felt wrong.  I felt disloyal.  All the places I was looking were in the KW or Guelph area, which would require me to move and change everything again.  I applied to two places in May, which was a big step for me, actually following through with a promise to consider something different.  I didn't expect to hear anything, and I didn't, which didn't surprise me at all. 

Not long after, a friend sent me a link for a job at Renison University College, affiliated with the University of Waterloo.  I ignored it at first because I knew secretly that I had a chance at getting an interview and didn't want to be forced to move into chaos again.  A week later, 2 days before the posting closed, another person that knew I was considering moving back to KW sent me the job description.  I relented and applied figuring that maybe God was suggesting I could move back to KW and be near my family, friends, and future wife.  Reluctantly I applied, recycling a resume I used to get an interview last year and barely updating the cover letter I used for it.  After sending it in, I figured I wouldn't get an interview.  So, a few days later, I forgot about it.

Until the phone rang.  Caller ID: uWaterloo.  I picked up and it was an offer for an interview.  I got the details, hung up, and then promptly screamed.  Loudly.  I was scared that security might come up and see if I was OK.  I started weighing my options.  Stick with a job and colleagues I like with some potential of upward movement in the organization, or take a chance with an unknown school and job, at a school I've wanted to work at for years with lots of potential of movement upwards and lateral, and be closer to the aforementioned 3 F's.  The interview came and went and a few days later I figured I didn't have a chance at it, and started to calm down despite being significantly freaked out that I may have to go through the process of chaos again.  One day after I calmed myself down and felt safe that nothing was going to change, I got the offer.  And screamed again.

After talking through the reasons I would move back to KW vs the reasons I would stay in Toronto, moving to KW to take this job, even though it was a relative unknown in some aspects, made sense.  And so I gave my notice, told my peers, and have just applied to an apartment.

Scared?  Yes.  Feel like the world's in chaos?  Yes.  Know that change is sometimes good for you?  I answer this with reluctance:  Yes.

guest post... wait, what?

This is a first for this blog. A guest post. By, who else, but the one who I am going to be married to. Fiancée, girl to whom I am betrothed, GIM (girl I'm marrying), or any other pretentious sounding words to describe this awkward state between dating and marriage.

So without further adieu, a post from Robin.

Our Theme is Awkward?

Since Tim has had his chance to tell a story, I feel it is my turn to weave a yarn: one dating back to the time we met.

Those of you who know Tim well are likely to be acquainted with his friend Gord, as they have been attached at the hip since high school. I met Gord at church, when an old lady at coffee hour noticed me talking to old people and decided to steer me over to where the young people were to prevent further mingling of the generations. Gord was there, along with several others that I now hold dear. Gord seemed fairly non-threatening in this world of “young people” that I was being forced into and somehow I ended up volunteering to help out with leading his youth group. This began a long standing tradition of going out for lunch after church with Gord and his “young people’s” gang, which I attended sporadically, depending on the level of introversion I was experiencing each Sunday. I personally believe that Gord was prowling the halls of the church looking for young, single women to set his dear friend Tim up with, to ease the pain and suffering of losing him to his lovely wife Vanessa. I recall going out for coffee with The Gord, where he demanded to know why I was not married. I assume this was the first of his auditions for me.

Soon Tim began showing up to these after-church specials. He became part of the gang to me. One day, while eating at Christian Chicken, the waitress was organizing the bills and began asking who was together. Mike and Emily, of course, and Gord and Vanessa and Tim and Robin, right? When we asked for separate bills, she demanded to know why we weren’t married. With squinty eyes, I said something super intelligent like “…uh…cause we just met…?”, which was fairly entertaining to all involved, most of all Gord because I’m pretty sure he had already started choosing china patterns for us. I was oblivious. It was big news for me to have found the “young people” at church. I did not need waitresses deciding that I needed to marry one of them.

The same day, I invited these “young people” to come on a Jane’s Walk, clearly not knowing what I was doing, because Mike hates walking. Everyone had other plans, except Tim, who Gord then took aside and must have given him instructions on how to pick up women on community walking tours. He showed up and awkwardly walked around with my friend and I. In the middle of the tour, my friend turns to me an whispers “BTW, I think this guy likes you…” Well, that was just silliness! Why would he do that? I ignored this information and carried on.  Afterwards, he invited himself to accompany me to return my library books (…forward, I know…I can’t believe I didn’t see through this!). We got to talking about ducks and Tim told me about how there was a duck couple that he would watch from the window of his office that he had named George and Mabel. From there on out I was hooked.

Tim and I began awkwardly doing things together all the time. He started showing up to youth group events so he could throw water balloons at me. He would invite the “young people’s” gang out after church and conveniently everyone would have other plans, and it would end up the two of us going hiking alone. We would learn many things of importance together on these excursions, like the fact that old people wear cool pants in Blair, ON and that there are a lot of waterfalls in Hamilton. He introduced me to Taize worship services and I decided that I liked that he sang. He came with me to do chores at the farm where I worked part-time. He helped me chase ducks and I taught him to pick up chickens, which he thought was hilarious. I had an extra ticket to a Stratford play and guess who had nothing better to do? And naturally when it came time for our friend Amy to get married, Gord helpfully invited me to be Tim’s plus 1. All of this time, I assumed that he was just a friendly guy who liked ducks that I happened to be crazy about. Mutual attraction really did not seem like an option to me, so I continued on attempting to finish my last semester university, pretending that Tim was just another young person to eat lunch with after church.

After awhile, it started becoming painful. We went out for ice cream and Tim paid for mine. I was becoming suspicious. What could this mean? Double rainbow? One night after youth group, we decided to watch a movie at my apartment. I remember nothing about that movie other than the romantic title “Men Who Stare at Goats”. I had to get up early the next day to do chores and go to work and was having a hard time staying awake. When the movie was over, it seemed like Tim should go home, as I really wanted to go to bed, but he kept sitting there on my love seat, talking about nothing in particular. After a period of silence in which I figured he was going to announce he was going home, Tim screwed together every ounce of courage that he had and made an eloquent speech. “…I think I like you…so…I don’t know if you’re interested, or…?”. I, half asleep, felt my tongue grow about six sizes in my mouth. I couldn’t swallow. How could I talk? I think I coughed or choked and nearly burst into tears and responded in an appropriately awkward fashion that I liked him too. I was very confused about why he was doing what I had wanted him to do for a long time . Why would this boy who liked ducks like me too? Am I a duck? If ducks float, are they made of wood? Wood burns…am I a witch? It was one of those heart fluttery, shaky hand experiences that should only really be felt in high school, coming back to haunt me at age 24. Somehow we decided that we should wait until we were done school to do anything about this. Tim left and I went to bed, by now of course unable to sleep concerned that he was going to try to burn me at the stake.

A week or so later, three years ago today (June 20, 2013), this boy came into my little basement apartment, sat awkwardly beside me on my love seat, patted me really awkwardly on the leg and asked if I would be his girlfriend. Being the big fan of awkward that I am, I said “Sure why not?”, thus beginning the start of a lifetime of awkwardness together. Our awkwardness has grown into complete comfort. I can talk about anything with Tim. He listens patiently to me when I go all Anne of Green Gables on him. He even read Anne of Green Gables to understand what I am talking about. In him I have found my closest confident and truest friend and the love of my life. He fascinates me with his strangeness and I am sure he feels the same way about me. I am sure that there will be many more awkward moments to come, but I look forward to them knowing that God has given me a true friend to eat lunch with after church.

seriously?

So in order to save my fingers from typing this out individually, I've decided to post it in a central location so people can read the story and see a few pictures for themselves.

Why is this coming about?  Well, I decided to take the next steps with a lovely girl named Robin and asked her to marry me.

Here's how it went down:

Some Background:

We've been dating for almost 3 years, and through the last year, many things have changed, including both of our jobs, and my living location.  What hasn't changed is the continual discussion about what was happening next.  Robin would tell you that I was dragging my feet, whereas I'll tell you that I like to have all details sorted out before I make a big decision of any sort, especially the largest decision of my life to date.

She's been joking (I think?) for the past few months about the concept of marriage.  I was still hesitant so I glared at her every time this came up.  She enjoyed getting a reaction.  I slowly but surely came to the conclusion that this was the right thing to do.  All of my concerns had been dealt with and the only thing that was holding me back was a fear of the unknown.  After a good conversation with Gord, and multiple hours of prayer, I decided to not be afraid of taking the next step.

The Soup Incident:

I went to Kitchener for the weekend and on Saturday, after dropping Robin off at work, I went to pick up Gord and we went out for an adventure.  After browsing through 6 jewellery stores, I settled on a ring that I found at the 4th location.  As soon as I saw it, I knew it was the one.  So we went back to that shop and made the purchase.  This is where the nerves started kicking in.  But they disappeared again for a while.

Robin had asked me to make soup for a lunch at church the next day.  I didn't make it and when she came home, she was right upset with me.  I think this is one of the few times that she has ever been really mad at me.  I took one for the team because I couldn't tell her where I'd been that day.  I just apologized and knew it would be a temporary pain for a long term gain.

The Asking:

I woke up really unsure if I was going to go through with it on the Sunday.  But about halfway through the afternoon, I decided it was going to happen that day.  I played up the idea that we were never going to get married and that she would have to ditch me and find someone else who was willing to commit.  It was a joke based on her fears we had going on.

That evening, during dinner, I excused myself to get the ring under the guise of using the facilities.  I got the box out of the closet by pretending I needed a new hand towel and then went into the washroom.  After looking in the mirror, breathing deeply a few times, saying a quick prayer, and telling myself I can do this, I went back out and we got to work doing the dishes.  I offered to dry so as to keep my right pocket as far away from her as I could.

After putting away the dishes, we were going to go for a walk, but she had to step out of the room for a moment.  Once the door closed behind her, I got to work.  I took the Scrabble letters I have magnetized on my fridge and changed a message she had put up earlier (Lets get elopded [sic]) and turned it into Lets get engaged.

When she came back out, she asked me if I was ready to go, I said yep, but there's a message on the fridge for you.  She went over to look, and when she turned around, I was on one knee with the ring in hand and asked "Robin, will you marry me?"  She looked at me in shock and replied "Are you serious?"  I said yes, and she finally said "Yes, of course I'll marry you!"

The Aftermath:

The two days since have been full of lots of phone calls and e-mails and texts and Facebook messages to get the word out.  And now it's down to figuring everything else out. Details will come as they're made available.

As mentioned before, an underlying sense of fear has been played a part in our story.  Am I still afraid?  I liken the past 2 days to going back and forth from excitement about the possibility of spending the rest of my life with this girl to the terror of not knowing what is in store and the stress of having to figure out everything about a wedding and our future in the very near future , but through it all, I somehow know that I'll be ok.  Robin's had the ability to calm my fears and motivate me to try new things and face my fears head on.  She's supported me through the times when things are going well to the times where I felt my stability was falling apart.  She's a trooper and I love her for it.  She's helped me realize that emotions aren't necessarily over-rated, and it's OK to express yourself and talk through issues, even the tough ones.

Over the past few years, the words of God to the Israelites through Joshua have been on my mind and have calmed me down when I've started to become concerned:  "Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go."  Js 1:9.

And that's the story of how I got engaged.

Pictures:

torontonia: 6 months later

I guess it's been a while since I last updated here.  Not much has happened in those 6 months other than a brief vacation to Lion's Head, Christmas, and I got a new camera.  Life is still marching along.

To those who are reading on Google Reader, I've transferred over to Feedly.  It's not as good as Google Reader, but the reviews seem to think it's the best.

Before I go, here's a picture of Mr. Twister, a tree at Crawford Lake Conservation Area near Milton.

The roots are uneven, causing it to grow in a twist.  Quite cool.  If you ever get a chance, go see it for yourself.  (If you sweet talk me, I can come with you and get a vehicle's worth of people in for free.)