The thing about my vocation this year is that I often feel useless and unsuited for the marginalized demographic I’m serving (honestly).  Add that to a forty-hour work week, for ten months, and the little pay, and you’ve got a near-perfect recipe for exhaustion.  Oh wait, have I mentioned that all of my family is in Myrtle Beach right now preparing to celebrate my older sister’s one-time-only college graduation?  The single, unifying goal she’s had for the past few years?  The moment she’s been working tirelessly, full-time as a student and in her job for?  All of my family and her friends are there for her, except for me.  That’s this weekend.  Not to mention that the program is over in less than eight weeks, and nothing is decided for my life after?  So there, I guess that is the perfect recipe for exhaustion.

I talked with my supervisor about it this week and she didn’t seem surprised, and she did affirm me, saying that she’s seen many people get burnt out in a year, and even in a couple months.  It makes me feel better, to have that kind of validation.

I went to Sr. Clara, our director, too, and pleaded for some time off so that I could enjoy some time not needing to be concerned whatsoever with expectations from work or the community, and hopefully regain some peace for my frazzled state.   She graciously arranged for me to go up to Clare’s Well, a gardened retreat center run by three of the sweetest Franciscans, next week for a couple of days.  I’m going to bring my Bible and maybe a Jane Austen that I haven’t read, my Nalgene and toothbrush.  That’s it.  I hope this time off brings me a glimmer of the peace and clarity I’ve been praying for!